


Grey: Volume II

by allofuswithwings



Series: Grey [2]
Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Discussion of spouses, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Humor, M/M, Occasional fat-phobic language, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Self-Reflection, Slow Burn, The Resistance Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: Whether I see you nowwith glistening raven hairor find you blonde and fair,I find somehowin your sweet facethat same grace.I daresayThe very god of loveWill stroke your hairWhen it is grey.– Greek, anonymous**Dom and Matt return from their holiday on a remote tropical island and find they are not the same people as they were before. Something has changed in their relationship too, and Dom is slowly beginning to realise exactly what that might be.
Relationships: Matt Bellamy/Dom Howard
Series: Grey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136627
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal/Dreamwidth. Volume I written 2009-2012. Volume II written 2012-2016, unfinished. Restarted end 2020, now ongoing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom returns to England and reflects upon his relationship with Matt.

The weather was still miserable when Dom returned to London. The bitter wind had mostly abated, but the signs of winter still lingered on; a fine drizzle blanketed the city most mornings and the sun was loathe to provide much warmth when it did emerge.  
  
Dom immediately missed the temperate consistency of the island, and was forced to purchase a new coat and some scarves when the search for warmer apparel in his flat proved fruitless. He could no longer remember whether he’d thrown out his old clothes on previous trips or if they’d ended up in the tour wardrobe shared with Matt, never to be seen again.  
  
Dom zipped his hoodie up as he stepped out onto the balcony, shutting the glass doors behind him. He patted down his pockets for his cigarette packet and pulled a lighter from his jeans, taking a seat at the table. Lighting his cigarette, his gaze drew across the cityscape; it was now buzzing with mid-morning business despite the cloudy, grey skies above. This was the British way he supposed – regardless of the dreary circumstances, you just carried on, because what else was there to do?  
  
Thumbing through his phone in one hand, cigarette in the other, he tapped back to his text conversations, the most recent sparking a flutter in his belly. As he’d said he would, he contacted Matt a little while after the singer had left the island, just to see how he was getting on. The exchange was by no means a complete reconciliation, but the slightly less reluctant tone of Matt’s words gave Dom hope.  
  
**Just checking to make sure you haven’t topped yourself yet ;)**  
  
**no not yet disappointed?**  
  
**A little.**  
  
**fuk you :)**  
  
Matt still hadn’t got smart phone operation down pat yet. Or maybe he had, and was being deliberately poor with punctuation and grammar on purpose, just to be a twat. It wouldn’t surprise Dom.  
  
**Though I would miss your smelly feet.**  
  
**exactly what would you do without my socks to clean?**  
  
**I know. I’d have to find something else to occupy my time other than cleaning up after you.**  
  
**paint your nails? put on lipstick? oh wait you do that anyway**  
  
**Only when you ask nicely ;)**  
  
**u r weird lol**  
  
**Thanks.**  
  
**it wasnt a complement**  
  
The conversation ended there, Dom leaving it on a light-hearted note and holding back from delving into Matt’s attempts to sort his head out. There would be plenty of time for that when Matt came back to England. If he wasn’t already there. God, Dom didn’t really have any idea.  
  
Matt had specifically said he wasn’t heading back to Italy when he’d left, but that didn’t automatically mean he’d come back home. If the singer even still considered England home. Dom suspected he did. As much as Matt complained about the country, he would always come back, always have a house there, even if he wasn’t in it most of the year. England was in their blood; they could never abandon it completely.  
  
It was probably the reason Dom had already shipped half their belongings back to the UK from the Caribbean. Mostly, it was the large pieces – their instruments and recording equipment, as well as some bigger bits of furniture. It was all sitting in storage just outside London, ready to be moved whenever they needed it next. And from speaking to Chris only the day before, it seemed that could be sooner than expected.  
  
The bassist had expressed interest in kitting out a property he had nearby, so they had their own recording studio to finish the album. Dom hadn’t protested. Regardless of the uneasiness between he and Matt, they had an album to do, and it would do no good to procrastinate on it now when they’d already come so far.  
  
Dom put his phone in his pocket to stop himself continually re-reading the text conversation he’d had with Matt. It was a hopeful start, but he was starting to drive himself a little mad obsessing over it. He couldn’t help that Matt was in his thoughts so often; he had been every day since Dom had arrived back. From the moment he opened his eyes in the morning to the last thoughts that drifted through his mind right before sleep took him, there was Matt.  
  
Even with his phone away, and sitting on the balcony of the flat he used to share with his ex-girlfriend, his mind drifted to the singer. The cigarettes he was smoking were a reminder in themselves; he’d been the one to introduce Matt to smoking when they were kids.  
  
Staring at the perfectly rolled paper between his fingers, he got images of Matt’s hands and the way those thin digits had skimmed over his own many times before to steal that cigarette or joint. It was not unlike the way they looked when they danced over piano keys, gentle and careful, but with purpose.  
  
The thought came to Dom that they probably also provided uniquely intense sensations upon a lover’s skin, precise and attentive as they were. A shiver of heat shot up the drummer’s spine.  
  
He stopped.  
  
Where the fuck had _that_ come from?  
  
He was baffled as to why his mind would even conjure a thought such as that. Why was he contemplating Matt in a situation like that? This was his best friend, not some girlfriend or conquest. Not even a woman.  
  
He shouldn’t be following that train of thought – Matt was like a brother to him. Well, perhaps not like a brother. The affinity they had was something else, something that Dom still struggled to define, even after all these years together. Nevertheless, the thought that had just crept up on him was highly puzzling.  
  
Dom rubbed at his eye and shook his head. He was probably a little jetlagged, that was all.  
  
He adjusted his sunglasses as the sun started to peek through the clouds, lighting up the glass upon the many London skyscrapers, making them glitter. The air remained cool but Dom felt cheered anyway, the bright rays seeming to lift the city’s spirits as it bustled on. Perhaps he would stay here a while yet.  
  
Dom had contemplated selling up and moving out of the boroughs of London, even right away from the city, so as to lessen the reminder of his time with Jess here. But the ache when he’d arrived back hadn’t been as bad as expected, and after the first couple of days it had almost dissipated altogether. He supposed Jess being away from the flat for so long meant that it really did just feel like his now.  
  
Though, she’d been back since they were last there – she’d texted him weeks ago to let him know she was picking up the last of her belongings, what little were left, and to drop the keys off. She’d also left a photo of them out of one of the frames, upturned, with a note on the back scrawled in black pen.  
  
**_Dom,_**

**_I hope you find what you’re looking for._ **

**_Jess_**  
  
He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that; he hadn’t thought he was searching for anything. Then again, she’d always had a knack for sensing Dom’s needs, even when he didn’t know them himself.  
  
Dom stood up, taking the last drags of his cigarette and leaning against the railings of the balcony. The sun had begun to move behind the clouds again, and the city faded back into its misery as the promises of summer disappeared once more.  
  
The drummer stubbed out his cigarette and slipped his sunglasses back into his pocket, his body shuddering with a sudden chill. He gave the landscape one last glance and then retreated inside, thoughts of both Jess and Matt still swimming in his head.  
  
* * *  
  
Dom heard from Chris again the next day, and then Tom as a result. The two of them were at Chris’ place on the outskirts of town, attempting to work out the logistics of a home studio, though not with a great deal of success. Apparently there were issues with council permits and property use, although Dom found himself tuning out about halfway through. In the end it seemed there wasn’t much for him to do anyway, so he told Chris to let him know when it was good to go and he’d retrieve the grand and so on out of storage. Chris reluctantly agreed, muttering something about him being about as much help as Matt, before bidding him goodbye.  
  
Afterwards, it occurred to Dom that there had been a distinct absence of Matt in conversation up until that point, with both Chris and Tom. It consoled him a little to know that at least it wasn’t just _him_ that Matt had cut himself off from.  
  
Perhaps Matt had been telling the truth and it really _was_ all personal issues.  
  
*  
  
Later that evening, Dom sat at his keyboard, staring at the musical notation in front of him. He was about as good at reading music as Matt had been in the beginning, and he wasn’t sure if this was the best way for him to learn a new instrument either.  
  
Dom had bought the keyboard on a whim a couple of days earlier. He’d drifted into a music shop, eying off new kits and tech before being drawn to the pianos and keyboards. He’d been idly fingering the keys on a baby grand, his thoughts entirely somewhere else, when one of the shop staff had interrupted him.  
  
They’d inquired if he needed any help with the pianos, but had that slightly bug-eyed look people got when they recognised him but didn’t want to say anything. He’d been unexpectedly grateful for that, not exactly in the best head space for dealing with gushing fans, which was perhaps how he’d gotten talked into purchasing a keyboard.  
  
Dom didn’t regret it – it was good to have something to keep him occupied. It was just that he wasn’t very good at learning on his own. He’d always been better at messing around with other people, with friends, with Matt–  
  
The drummer let out a sigh, silencing his own thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then looked down at his fingers before returning to the music.  
  
He began to play the notes slowly, carefully, trying to remember where to move his fingers next. Of course the rhythms of the notes weren’t a problem; he could play fast, complicated patterns if it was limited to one or two notes. But his fingers weren’t used to moving so precisely, to set positions, and he’d struggled to play any exercises without hitting a bum note.  
  
Now he was trying to learn this damn instrument, Dom was even more in awe of Matt’s abilities than before.  
  
As if on cue, Dom’s phone started ringing, Matt’s silly face popping up on screen. He set his headphones aside and picked up the call.  
  
“Alright?” Dom greeted him.  
  
“You never said you were back in England.”  
  
Matt’s accusatory opening pulled Dom up short. The flare of indignation it provoked crept its way into his reply.  
  
“I didn’t realise I needed your permission.”  
  
There was silence for a few moments on the other end. Clearly, Matt had not expected resistance, only apology.  
  
“Fuck off, that’s not what I meant. Chris and Tom knew you’d been back days ago, but you didn’t bother to tell me. You still pissed at me for leaving?”  
  
Despite his sharp reply, Dom wasn’t really in the mood to fight with Matt this evening. He just wanted things to be easy. To be _normal_.  
  
He sighed.  
  
“No, I’m not. Look, you left cos you said you needed time alone. So that’s what I was doing. After a few days, I’d had enough of being by myself there so I packed up. I only told Chris and Tom because they called me about the album and recording and stuff.”  
  
He relayed Chris’ plans for the home studio to Matt, and the talk of working on the new record seemed to placate him a little.  
  
“So, you’re not pissed at me?” Matt asked, bringing the conversation back around again.  
  
“No, it’s fine. You’re trying to get your head straight – I get it.”  
  
“Right, yeah, okay. Good. As long as it’s alright.”  
  
Dom gave a half-smile.  
  
“Yeah, of course. I know you’ve got things you need to sort through, and it’s not really to do with me.”  
  
There was an awkward silence.  
  
“Right… yeah.”  
  
Matt’s hesitance didn’t fill Dom with confidence. Now he was second-guessing his earlier assumptions.  
  
“Matt…?”  
  
Another pause. Dom frowned.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“ _Is it_ to do with me?”  
  
“ _Dom_ …”  
  
He sounded nervous, and Dom had visions of the singer fidgeting in a hotel room somewhere.  
  
“I know you implied it was to do with me when we were in the Caribbean, but I thought you were just a bit messed up and emotional. I didn’t actually think you _meant_ it. But you did, didn’t you?”  
  
“It’s not how it sounds.” Matt exhaled. “It’s complicated.”  
  
Dom let out a grunt of frustration, his hand coming up to his forehead. As direct as Matt was most of the time, there were occasions where he could be irritatingly evasive.  
  
Well, fuck social propriety, Dom wasn’t going to dance around this anymore.  
  
“It’s about the shit that happened right before you left, I know. For whatever reason, it’s made everything… _awkward_ ,” he started. “So, okay; it’s awkward. Let’s talk it through and move on.”  
  
There was another pause and Dom wondered what was going through Matt’s head. If he was contemplating denying the whole thing, Dom was going to give him an earful.  
  
“Okay,” Matt said finally. “What did you want to start with?”  
  
Dom thought for a moment.  
  
“I don’t know. It depends on what the problem is.”  
  
Matt sighed.  
  
“Well, like you said, it just feels awkward, really. Nothing specific I can name, it’s all just everything together that happened, y’know?”  
  
Dom chewed his lip.  
  
“So when we were high and I kissed you, it messed things up?”  
  
“Yeah. Well, it didn’t help.”  
  
Dom’s hand went to his forehead again and then rubbed over his eyes.  
  
“You know that makes you a hypocrite, right?”  
  
He heard Matt sigh again.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Great. So you can pull shit like that, but I can’t?”  
  
“Dom…”  
  
Matt trailed off, his inability to verbalise his regret annoying Dom more than he knew it should. Matt had never been good at being sorry about anything – mostly because he generally _wasn’t_. But Dom thought he should be this time.  
  
“Look Matt, I’m not sorry about what happened. You were upset and I was trying to make you feel better, the only way I could think of in that state. It worked, so why do I need to apologise for that? If you’d hated it that much, you would’ve said something when it happened, wouldn’t you?”  
  
There was another short pause.  
  
“I didn’t hate it.”  
  
He didn’t elaborate, and Dom didn’t know what to make of it. He stood up from his keyboard and headed to the kitchen. He went to the fridge and opened a can of pop with the flick of his nail.  
  
“So, what then?” he pressed.  
  
“Well… I’m supposed to, aren’t I? Hate it, I mean.”  
  
Dom frowned in confusion, pausing half-way through a swig of the orange fizzy drink.  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Because you’re my best friend. It’s not how it’s supposed to work.”  
  
The drummer had no idea where Matt was going with this.  
  
“Best friends aren’t supposed to look after each other?” he asked. “Or you’re not supposed to _want_ to be looked after?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Yes to what?”  
  
“Both.”  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“What? Matt, you’re not making sense. I don’t get it.”  
  
Matt made a noise of irritation in his throat.  
  
“Exactly. You _don’t_ get it. This is why I didn’t talk to you about it before. It’s too fucking hard to explain.”  
  
There was a long silence as Dom fought the urge to continue down this path of unconstructive bickering with Matt. He exhaled a breath and sat down on the settee.  
  
“Alright,” he said slowly. “It’s complicated to explain the exact reasons, so we won’t try. I’ll just… I’ll be careful in the future to keep a distance so you’re not uncomfortable. It got a bit close for you, yeah? I get that.”  
  
Dom heard Matt sigh, softly now, and when he spoke he sounded weary.  
  
“No. I don’t want you to do that. Not at all. You shouldn’t have to, and I don’t want it that way. I like that we’re close.”  
  
The last part was muttered, almost sheepish, and Dom guessed it was this that Matt was having difficulty with. Affection didn’t come easily to him, either giving or receiving, and Dom thought perhaps he’d become a little overwhelmed.  
  
“Okay,” Dom said. “But then, what happened after – with the whole wanking incident– ”  
  
Matt made a small noise of disapproval.  
  
“–you just lost it a bit, yeah?” the drummer finished. “The last few months haven’t been easy, for either of us, I know. So it’s understandable.”  
  
Matt was quiet for some time.  
  
Dom sipped his pop and slid his feet up on the chaise.  
  
“Or am I completely wrong?” he prompted.  
  
“No, that’s right,” Matt replied, quiet. “I think you get it better than I do actually.” He sighed. “Which is the point really, cos I still don’t feel like I know myself. All that happened – what we did – well, I couldn’t cope.”  
  
Dom frowned at the guilt that seemed to lace Matt’s last sentence.  
  
“We only got high, like we’ve always done. It’s not a big deal. We didn’t do anything wrong.” He paused. “Unless you mean with the wanking, in which case, that wasn’t your fault. That was just me being… well, a bit of a pervert, really.”  
  
Dom let out a sheepish chuckle, letting his head fall back on the cushion. Matt remained quiet.  
  
“I am sorry, you know,” Dom added. “I should’ve said something earlier, but I didn’t.”  
  
“Why didn’t you?”  
  
Dom was more surprised Matt hadn’t asked this before; it must have crossed his mind. The blonde chewed on his lip.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I was surprised at first. Then I was just…”  
  
He hesitated. He hadn’t really thought much on his reasons since it had happened. Honestly, he hadn’t really wanted to; it was better not to think about how perverse his mind could be sometimes.  
  
“Just, what?” Matt prompted.  
  
Dom shrugged, despite knowing Matt couldn’t see it.  
  
“Curious.”  
  
Dom heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by deathly silence.  
  
“ _Curious?_ ”  
  
Matt’s reply was tinged with hysteria. Dom cracked a wry smile, rolling his eyes to himself.  
  
“Come on, Matt, you know I’m a bit of a voyeur sometimes. I can’t help it – I like that kind of thing,” he said. “So I guess I gave into it. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Dom ran a hand over his face. He and Matt had always been able to speak quite freely with each other, but he wondered exactly how far he should push it.  
  
He bit his lip, smirking and raking his hair with one hand before exhaling slowly.  
  
“Because it sounded good.”  
  
“Good…?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Do you mean good for _me_ – like I was enjoying it and you didn’t want to ruin it? Or good for you–” Matt paused here for a moment, clearing his throat. “–uh, good for you to listen to, because you liked how it sounded?”  
  
Matt sounded quite abashed, particularly at the last, and Dom couldn’t help his smirk. It was strange for Matt to be shy about sex. But he wasn’t ashamed, so didn’t see any reason to hide it now.  
  
“Good for me,” he admitted.  
  
Matt let out an embarrassed scoff and slight snicker.  
  
“What? You were getting off on it, were you?”  
  
Matt sounded a little like he was joking, but knowing him, it was likely he wanted an answer.  
  
“Yeah, well, I guess I was.”  
  
The singer let out a nervous giggle and Dom grinned.  
  
“ _Dom_ ,” Matt admonished. “That’s fucking dirty.”  
  
Dom laughed.  
  
“You sound surprised.”  
  
“Not really. I know what you’re like. You and your cock always have some nefarious plan to get off.”  
  
Dom let out a vaguely affronted chuckle, his eyebrows rising. Matt, however, was giggling profusely now. It was more reassuring than the discomfort or hostility.  
  
Dom scratched idly at the back of his neck, a wry grin on his lips.  
  
“I suppose that’s true. But it wasn’t intentional this time – it just sort of _happened_. I didn’t plan to impose it upon you.”  
  
Matt was silent for a few moments again.  
  
“Nah, I mean, it’s alright I guess. It wasn’t deliberate or anything, I know. Just sex and instinct, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was another pause, and then Dom quirked an eyebrow at the mischievous giggle from down the phone.  
  
“So, I can get you off then, eh?” Matt asked, his tone wicked and voice low.  
  
Dom snorted a laugh.  
  
“ _Jesus_ , Matt.”  
  
Matt continued to titter.  
  
“I’m just repeating what you said.”  
  
“I did _not_ say that.”  
  
“Maybe not in those words, but it was… _implied_.”  
  
He snickered again and Dom rolled his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh. He grinned, despite himself.  
  
“Feeding your ego again with imagined lust, more like.”  
  
“It’s not imagined, actually, because you just said you got turned on.”  
  
“Not _by_ you, though. Not like that.”  
  
“Well, it _was_. It was because of what I was _doing_.”  
  
Dom rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head.  
  
“I never should have said anything about getting off on it, should I?” he chuckled. “This is what I get for trying to make you feel less embarrassed.”  
  
“Nah, it’s good to know, good to know.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“It just is,” Matt said mysteriously.  
  
The singer didn’t elaborate further, and Dom shook his head again.  
  
“Right,” he said. “Well, on that note, I’d better go – need to track down something for tea.”  
  
“Yeah, okay.”  
  
Dom hesitated.  
  
“You gonna be around this way anytime soon?”  
  
The tension returned noticeably to their conversation, and Dom tried not to sigh.  
  
“I dunno.”  
  
“Alright. Well, I’ll be here, and organising shit with Chris. Let me know if you’re about and want to catch up.”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
Dom bid him farewell and hung up the phone with a feeling of uncertainty.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom is heartened when his relationship with Matt appears to become a little less strained.

A few days went by before Dom heard from Matt again, though he had much less time to dwell on it due to a flurry of activity. Chris called, joyous at being granted permission for the home studio, and harassed Dom into visiting so they could get started on the album. Of course, what Chris really meant was helping him move furniture and various instruments in, though the drummer wasn’t sure why Chris thought he’d be all that useful.  
  
He spent most of the time loitering around the place, drinking pop and chatting to Tom, who had also been roped in. He, at least, was trying to do the masculine thing and carry heavy objects; Dom felt no such compulsion.  
  
He was a little more help the second day when some of the decks and electronics arrived, setting them up and testing them out ready for recording and mixing. He did continue to frustrate Chris though, losing concentration during conversations and generally being pre-occupied.  
  
Mostly it was because his eyes kept being drawn to the yawning gap in the rehearsal room where Matt’s piano should be. The more he tried not to think about it, the more Matt’s absence plagued his thoughts.  
  
Chris quickly cottoned onto the fact that the singer was the cause of his wandering mind. He queried whether Dom had heard from him. Dom shrugged it off with a vague confirmation, but Chris wasn’t deterred. He quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“And? What did he say?”  
  
“Not much.”  
  
It was the truth – at least, in regard to the album or returning to London. It wasn’t as if Dom could tell the bassist what had happened between them recently. It didn’t seem right that he should want to hide all of this from his other best friend, but there was no scenario where Chris would be okay with what he and Matt had done.  
  
Not that there was anything wrong with it. He wasn’t ashamed of the intimacy he’d shared with Matt, but this was Chris. As excellent a friend as he was, he wasn’t quite as open-minded as Matt. Dom knew he would frown upon even meaningless, drug-induced kisses, let alone the whole wanking incident. It was enough to have to deal with all the fallout with Matt – Dom wasn’t prepared to handle weirdness from anyone else right now.  
  
But Chris eyed him, knowing he was keeping something back. Sometimes, he could be irritatingly observant.  
  
“Did you two have a falling out again or something? Is that why Matt’s been acting like a prat recently?”  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“No, it’s not that. Well, he’s not acting like that because we fell out – more the other way around. You know what he can be like.”  
  
Chris frowned.  
  
“What’s the matter with him, then?”  
  
“He said he had to sort his head out – that’s all I know.”  
  
It wasn’t exactly a lie.  
  
“Alright,” Chris sighed. “Well, I wish he’d bloody get on with it. He’s the one that wanted this album sorted – we can’t do it without him.”  
  
Dom nodded and started to unpack another box of electrical equipment. He wondered how long he could feign innocence before Chris realised he knew more than he was saying. Hopefully long enough for Matt to arrive in England, then _he_ could deal with Chris’s nosey questions.  
  
*  
  
The phone call from Matt was welcome, if a little unexpected.  
  
It wasn’t entirely out of character for Matt to call Dom very late at night, but as with many aspects of their relationship, it was something that had occurred more frequently a number of years ago, and usually on tour. It was another item on a long list of things Dom now noticed they’d stopped doing without really discussing.  
  
Its return gave Dom a surprisingly strong rush of happiness.  
  
“Finally grown tired of your jet-setting?” he asked as he answered the phone. “Because you must be really bored, calling me now.”  
  
“Did I wake you? Yeah, I suppose it’s late, isn’t it? I dunno, I’ve lost it a bit with the timezones.”  
  
Dom grinned, rubbing his fingers across his scalp, ruffling his hair.  
  
“Nah, you didn’t wake me. I couldn’t sleep – just been watching movies and stuff.”  
  
He decided to omit the part about exactly what type of movies he’d been watching. Matt didn’t need to know about the maddening restlessness that had overtaken him the last couple of days, and fuelled a fire of inexplicable, purposeless want deep in his belly.  
  
“Yeah, me too, I haven’t been sleeping much either. More reading and thinking though – the telly’s a bit shit here.”  
  
“No foreign porn, then?” Dom smirked. “The Europeans are usually good for that.”  
  
His probe for information wasn’t exactly subtle, but the hour was too late for him to manage any sort of delicacy.  
  
“I’m back in London, actually. Any foreign porn they’d have at this hotel, I’d have to pay for. And I’m not about to do that.”  
  
Dom sat up, feeling much more awake all of a sudden. A thousand questions filled his head, and he didn’t really know where to start.  
  
But Dom let them be for the moment; he didn’t want to spook Matt so soon.  
  
“Right, yeah, fair enough,” he said, careful. “Didn’t bring your laptop, I take it?”  
  
“Oh, it’s with all my other crap I’ve just put into storage. I didn’t really think about what I’d need, y’know?”  
  
Dom tutted.  
  
“Priorities,” he grinned.  
  
Matt giggled.  
  
“I think mine are a bit different from yours.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“Mmm, of course they are.”  
  
“What? Hey, I don’t think about sex all the time.”  
  
“Just most of the time.”  
  
“No. I’m not you.”  
  
“Ah, right. So the whole time you’ve been stuck in that hotel by yourself, you haven’t been thinking about getting laid?”  
  
“No. And who says I’ve been by myself?”  
  
The comment made Dom bristle. It wasn’t that he was jealous per se. He supposed because he’d been listless and alone, he thought it only fair that Matt was too.  
  
Perhaps he was a _little_ jealous.  
  
“You’ve been pulling?” he asked.  
  
There was silence for a moment, and then Matt unloaded.  
  
“Is that such a fucking surprising thing, if I had been? That I’m now so pathetic, I couldn’t entice anyone for a one night stand? Good to see you’ve got such confidence in me.”  
  
Dom furrowed his brow at Matt’s unnecessary hostility.  
  
“Matt, what are you even talking about? I never said anything like that.”  
  
“You don’t have to. It’s what you meant.”  
  
“No it isn’t,” Dom half-laughed, still confused. “I was just interested, because _I’ve_ been pathetic on that front. It wasn’t in any way a suggestion about _your_ ability to pull – at least, nothing negative. So, you don’t have to bite my fucking head off.”  
  
There was silence on the other end for a while, and Dom rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. He knew Matt was probably just being a shit because he was tired, jet-lagged. But that didn’t mean Dom had to sit there and take it, not when they’d been having a perfectly civil conversation only seconds before.  
  
“Matt? You still there?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m still here.”  
  
“But you’re pissed off at me now.”  
  
He heard Matt sigh.  
  
“No, I’m not. I’m just, I dunno. All over the place, with the time and not sleeping and all that. Head’s not quite right, bit wobbly I think.”  
  
“Imagining I’m attacking you when I’m actually not.”  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
Dom pulled a half-smile.  
  
“Because I wasn’t, you know. I wouldn’t do that, after all the shit you’ve been through lately.”  
  
“I’m not some delicate flower; you don’t have to worry about crushing me.”  
  
“ _Matt_ ,” Dom chided. “You know that’s not what I meant either.”  
  
“Guess I probably shouldn’t have called, eh? This conversation is going terribly.”  
  
“Take it easy, mate – it’s fine. I’m glad you called, even this late. Like I said, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”  
  
There was a pause, and Dom heard Matt take in a breath.  
  
“About that. Can I come over? Being stuck in here is driving me a bit mad, as you can tell. I’m only a couple of blocks down – I reckon I could grab a taxi.”  
  
Dom was again surprised, but glad.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, of course, head on over. You can stay the night too if you want – what’s left of it anyway.”  
  
“Great. I’ll see you soon then.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
*  
  
Matt did look pretty rubbish when he turned up on Dom’s doorstep. His hair wasn’t too wild, but his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark bags of sleeplessness. It was clear he hadn’t been taking care of himself of late, though it wasn’t as if Dom could claim superiority in that regard.  
  
Matt hovered at the door, fingers fidgeting on the hem of his shirt, and nose twitching as he sniffed. Dom quirked an eyebrow and wondered what was going through his head; he seemed to be waiting to be invited in, though Dom had no idea why.  
  
He tipped his head and opened the door wider, and Matt took the hint, crossing the threshold. Dom had to fight the urge to pull him into a hug. Apart from looking as though he needed it, they hadn’t seen each other in some time – not to mention the way things had been left between them in the Caribbean.  
  
He settled for a squeeze of Matt’s shoulder, his hand lingering longer than was probably necessary. He let it slip when Matt’s eyes tracked to his touch, though he couldn’t really tell whether the expression was one of disapproval or curiosity. Either way, it sparked an odd wave of self-consciousness, and Dom turned from him to make his way to the kitchen.  
  
He put the kettle on as Matt threw his night bag down on the settee, followed by himself, his head lolling back against the armrest. The singer lifted his arm to rub idly at the front of his hair with his fingertips, eyelids squeezing shut and open again. Matt let out a loud yawn and toed his shoes off, wiggling to settle further down into the black leather seat.  
  
He was dozing a little when Dom brought the tea over, setting it down on the coffee table in front of them. The drummer sat down on the other lounge, elbow propped on the armrest and mug of tea warm between his hands. He watched Matt for those few quiet minutes, and allowed his affection and sadness to create a wash of bittersweet emotion that was becoming far too familiar.  
  
Matt’s eyes eventually fluttered open again, and he saw Dom watching him. The smile he threw was appropriately wistful, no doubt reading Dom’s mood precisely, even at this hour.  
  
Matt reached for his tea and took a few sips before speaking.  
  
“I can’t remember the last time I was here. Seems like years since I’ve seen your flat; almost forgot where it was.”  
  
“Probably not far off. _I_ haven’t been here all that much in the last few years, and we never really got together outside of touring and working on albums, so it’s not surprising you haven’t.”  
  
Matt’s eyes fell on him again.  
  
“It’s not like you invited me here.”  
  
Dom resisted the urge to scowl; he knew their emotions were both raw right now.  
  
“And you didn’t invite me to Italy, so I guess we’re even.”  
  
Matt’s expression seemed to soften, and shut his eyes a moment as he drank some more tea. He wasn’t looking at Dom when he spoke again.  
  
“I wanted to – I did. I dunno, things were just weird then, y’know? We weren’t, er – I couldn’t just ring you up and ask you to hang out. We weren’t how we are now.”  
  
Dom swallowed.  
  
“And how are we now?”  
  
Matt met his gaze and took a few moments to search it before he replied.  
  
“Better. Better friends, I think. I know you more than I did then – maybe more than I ever have done.”  
  
Dom’s heart felt like it was trying to leap into his throat.  
  
“Even now, after all the shit recently? Because it hasn’t felt like it; it’s felt like going backwards again, and I don’t want that. But I have no idea what to do to fix it, because I don’t want to fuck with your head when you’re already trying to sort it out.”  
  
He shrugged and set down his mug on the table.  
  
Matt’s eyes lingered on him, Dom almost sure he could see the cogs turning in the singer’s head, before he put his own mug aside. He ran a hand over his face, sitting up and letting out a noise of exasperation. Dom watched in curiosity as he stood up and rounded the table to sit down beside him, the leather creaking underneath.  
  
The drummer was even more surprised when Matt lifted a hand to the side of his face, eyes tracking over him with a strange intensity. Dom couldn’t help the raise of his eyebrows as Matt’s hand settled around to hold his head, his thumb stroking back and forth at the edge of his cheek.  
  
Matt’s gaze was unsettlingly desperate now, searching Dom’s in either query or hope, possibly both.  
  
“Dom, I…”  
  
Matt let out a grunt as his words left him, furrowing his brow before shaking his head. His hand slid from Dom’s cheek, and he rubbed both of his hands over his face, sighing.  
  
Concerned, Dom pressed fingers into Matt’s shoulder, tipping his head and knotting his own brow.  
  
“Mate, what is it?” he asked gently.  
  
Matt’s hands remained over his mouth for a moment, eyes closed. Then he opened them and looked over at Dom, tracking from the hand at his shoulder up to Dom’s face. He took a breath and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.  
  
“Whatever’s wrong, I’m here, yeah?” Dom reassured.  
  
Matt’s arm snaked around his back and suddenly he’d enveloped him in a hug, other arm braced around his shoulder and hand fisted in his hair.  
  
Dom didn’t know what to do for a moment, gripped fiercely by his best friend that was usually so reluctant to display affection. Then he wrapped arms around the slim man and returned the embrace, his eyes closing and a welcome relief settling in his heart.  
  
He expected Matt to pull away, laugh it off at any moment, but he didn’t. Matt’s eyes were squeezed shut and his chest fluttered with sharp, shallow breaths against Dom’s. This was far too similar to Matt’s distress during their trip for his liking.  
  
Dom frowned and drew back a little, sliding a hand into Matt’s hair. He drew circles with his fingertips against Matt’s scalp in an attempt to soothe him, and he felt the frontman sag into his embrace.  
  
“Dom… _Dom_ ,” he muttered. “I’m a fucking idiot, I just…”  
  
Dom stopped him before he could berate himself further.  
  
“Hey, it’s alright, you’re just tired. I shouldn’t have pushed you, not now – I’m sorry. Don’t worry about any of it.”  
  
Matt didn’t reply right away, instead remaining slumped against him in silence for a while, his breaths eventually steadying. Dom just held him, unsure what to do next. Then Matt lifted his head and shook it, sighing again.  
  
“I thought I’d fixed myself, gotten better at least, these last few months. I thought I wasn’t as fucked up – that I’d grown up, learnt how to deal with all this. But I always seem to end up back in the same place with the same shit again. I don’t know what I’m doing.”  
  
Dom gave a small smile.  
  
“You think any of us do? I’m just muddling through everything the same as you.”  
  
Matt leaned back to look Dom in the face.  
  
“Well, you seem a lot more together about it than me.”  
  
“ _Seem_ being the operative word there. Doesn’t mean I am. Left on my own it’s not exactly pretty, y’know, which was why I was glad you came around.”  
  
Matt cracked a smile, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
“Miss me, did you?”  
  
Dom’s grin was soft.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Matt snorted and ducked his head, and Dom slid his hand down to rest at the back of Matt’s neck.  
  
“I mean it,” Dom said.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Matt smiled now and twisted his fingers in Dom’s hair. Then he leaned forward to press his lips against Dom’s cheek before pulling him into a hug again.  
  
Dom chuckled, slightly confused.  
  
“What?” Matt asked.  
  
The drummer shook his head, returning the embrace.  
  
“Nothing. Just you.”  
  
“What about me?”  
  
When Dom spoke, there was no malice in his voice, only tease.  
  
“You kissed me again.”  
  
Matt huffed, pulling back to narrow his eyes at Dom.  
  
“So? I’m allowed. It wasn’t the same as when you did it before.”  
  
“Yeah, it was. Hypocrite,” Dom grinned.  
  
“I am _not_.”  
  
“Are. Hypocrite.”  
  
Dom didn’t mean it, of course, and Matt knew that. His petulant expression quickly turned playful and Dom squawked as Matt leaned in to nip at his neck. Dom returned the favour, and it soon degenerated into a ridiculous biting and wrestling contest in which Matt declared himself the winner, despite being pinned to the settee.  
  
By that stage, they’d both truly tired themselves out and Matt didn’t protest when Dom suggested they head to bed. Though, the drummer had to admit he was surprised when Matt followed him into his bedroom, rather than heading to the guest room to sleep. He hadn’t thought they were back to that level of comfort yet, given the lingering unease in their relationship – but Dom didn’t dare question it, lest Matt change his mind.  
  
Instead, as the singer shuffled back into his embrace under the bedcovers, Dom allowed contentment to flare in his chest, not realising until now just how much he’d missed the feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom feels like he’s going in circles. Chris gets on his case again about living with his best friend and Matt continues to panic about their friendship.

Matt never really asked whether he could move into Dom’s flat. It was one of those things that just kind of happened.  
  
After that first night, Matt had his musical equipment sent to Chris’s new studio and the three of them had immediately resumed their work on the album. The times they didn’t work late, Dom always asked the singer over to his place for dinner. They’d eat a lot, drink even more, and either watch a film or mess around on Dom’s Playstation. More often than not, Matt would stay the night rather than try to catch a taxi back, and Dom was more than happy to have him.  
  
When a week went by with Matt’s belongings gradually migrating into Dom’s flat, it seemed a little ridiculous to continue paying for a hotel room that wasn’t being used. Dom told Matt to bring the last of his bags over, and the next day Matt checked out of the hotel.  
  
There wasn’t anything more to it than that, though Dom had to admit he didn’t even consider the events unfolding any other way. They were so thick in the flow of the new record that everything soon became habit and instinct, especially with one another. Matt moving in with him was just a natural extension of that, and it was only really after the fact that Dom began to ruminate on it.  
  
It was also soon noticed by Chris, who, despite all the shit he’d provoked the last time he’d commented on their friendship, couldn’t leave well enough alone.  
  
*  
  
The two of them were devouring a couple of sandwiches in the kitchen when Chris brought it up.  
  
“So… Matt’s living with you again, is he?” Chris asked.  
  
He pretended to appear nonchalant, but Dom saw right through it. He threw Chris a hard stare, not wanting to have another pointless conversation about Matt. He’d already dealt with all the guilt and conflicted feelings that Chris had stirred up last time, so he didn’t really see what more there was to talk about.  
  
“Yeah, he is.”  
  
“Right. Well, that must be, uh, interesting.”  
  
“No more than usual.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess it _is_ usual now, isn’t it? The two of you living together.”  
  
Dom eyed him, trying to work out what this was leading to, if anything.  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
“Won’t it get annoying, though? I mean, we’re busy at the moment so maybe not right now, but in a couple of months’ time, what if you go out and pull a bird and want to bring her home?”  
  
Dom threw him a quizzical stare.  
  
“What if I do?”  
  
“Don’t you think she’ll wonder why you have a flatmate when you’re not skint?”  
  
“We’re recording down the road – it’s not that complicated to understand.”  
  
“So, Matt’s going to move out when the record’s done?”  
  
Dom hesitated. He hadn’t really thought about that – in fact, he’d just assumed nothing would change. He honestly didn’t know what Matt wanted to do. A while ago Matt had mentioned possibly wanting to live in LA at some point, but that could’ve just been him talking rubbish again and not really being serious.  
  
Dom’s brief silence was apparently enough of an answer for Chris because he snorted and shook his head.  
  
“What?” Dom asked, frowning a little in annoyance.  
  
“I really don’t get it, that’s all.”  
  
“Get what?”  
  
“You two.”  
  
“So? You don’t have to,” Dom snapped.  
  
Chris shrugged, apparently conceding the point.  
  
“Yeah, okay. I just wondered if everything was alright.”  
  
Dom’s expression softened. Perhaps he’d been a little harsh – Chris was their friend after all, and was no doubt being nosey out of good intentions.  
  
“Yeah, it’s all okay. You don’t need to fret over how Matt and I manage our personal lives,” he replied. “We might be unorthodox, but it works, and we’re fine, yeah?”  
  
Chris looked uncertain, and he chewed on his lip before replying.  
  
“If you say so.”  
  
Dom let out a sigh, turning to him with a more serious expression.  
  
“Look Chris, is there something specific you’re worried about? You’ve been acting a bit weird lately about me and Matt, so it kinda seems like there’s something you want to say.”  
  
Chris cleared his throat and stood up, screwing up his serviette and collecting the rest of his lunch rubbish.  
  
“Nah, nah, nothing in particular. Just making sure you two don’t kill each other before we get this album done, that’s all.”  
  
Chris was attempting to make light of it, but Dom couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to his line of questioning. He just couldn’t work out what yet.  
  
“I think we can hold back for now,” he replied.  
  
Chris threw him a quick smile and dumped his rubbish into the bin.  
  
“Right. Good. Well, we should probably see how Matt’s doing. He might want some more of that bass laid down on _Unnatural Selection_ if he’s done tinkering.”  
  
With a nod of invitation to join him, Chris headed in the direction of the door back downstairs.  
  
Dom stood up and followed him, their conversation still turning over in his head.  
  
He was sure Chris hadn’t voiced everything that he was thinking, but if it was really significant, Dom supposed it would come up again. He would just have to wait it out.  
  
* * *  
  
It was still early when Dom entered his living room to find Matt curled up in the armchair by the window, leafing through pages of sheet music. If he hadn’t woken with the singer’s arms flung across him only an hour before, he would’ve wondered if Matt had been fussing over his composition all night.  
  
Granted, as neurotic as Matt still was, he’d relaxed into slightly healthier work habits of late, preferring to snatch every spare moment for composition rather than pushing himself into the unreasonable hours of the morning.  
  
Shafts of sunlight penetrated from over the balcony outside to fall in broken fragments over Matt’s form, throwing shadows from his sharp features and illuminating the paler strands of his hair.  
  
He didn’t seem to notice Dom approach, his eyes glued to the array of musical notation and brow furrowed in concentration. He’d always had an uncanny ability to focus solely on his music and block out everything else – a skill that Dom, easily distracted, didn’t possess and always envied.  
  
Of course, it was part of the motivation behind their perpetual bickering, with Matt constantly annoyed by Dom’s cavalier attitude to working, and Dom’s exasperation over Matt’s nit-picking. It was only when it got out of hand that it became a real problem – and at these times Chris needed to intervene. But otherwise, Dom actually found it to be fairly productive; it kept both of them on their toes.  
  
It wasn’t until Dom was standing right beside the chair that Matt noticed his presence, looking up at him. Dom gave a soft grin.  
  
“No rest for the wicked?”  
  
Matt’s smile was toothy in return.  
  
“I’ve got quite a bit to make up for then, eh?”  
  
Dom smiled wider and reached out to comb his fingers through the back of Matt’s hair. Matt leaned into it, closing his eyes, his grip on the paperwork going lax. He made a grunting sound of appreciation as Dom’s nails began to scratch his scalp, provoking a chuckle in the drummer.  
  
“Fuck it,” Matt muttered, “We should just do this today instead.”  
  
“ _I_ can do this, you mean. And you can sit there doing nothing.”  
  
Matt’s eyes remained closed, but his mouth fell open now.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
He let his fingertips rub all through Matt’s hair again, his hand eventually coming to rest at the nape of the singer’s neck. He was surprised when Matt reached out to lay a hand at his waist.  
  
“I like this though. When it’s just us, I mean.”  
  
Matt’s tone was odd, and though his eyes were open now, his gaze was downcast.  
  
“Yeah,” Dom said slowly, confused, “Me too.”  
  
Matt’s fingers worried at the fabric of Dom’s tee as he spoke.  
  
“I just don’t want it to– I mean, you can always tell me if I’m being an irritating wanker.”  
  
Dom half-smiled.  
  
“Don’t I always?”  
  
Matt still wouldn’t meet his eyes, his gaze now straying to the window.  
  
“I know, I know, but at the moment it’s been, uh, _intense_. All day, every day seeing each other, with us living together and working on the album. It can become a bit much,” he explained. “ _I_ can be a bit much. So, you shouldn’t feel like you have to stay around all the time, y’know? You can get away if you feel like you’re losing it.”  
  
Dom let his hand slip, detaching Matt’s fingers as he rounded the chair. He gave Matt a long stare.  
  
“I’m not, I’m fine,” he said. “Are you trying to get rid of me, though? Is that what this is? Cos it’s a shitty way of doing it if it is.”  
  
Matt’s eyes snapped to his.  
  
“No, that’s not it at all.”  
  
“Well, what then?” Dom prompted. “What the fuck’s brought this on?”  
  
“Nothing. I’m just–”  
  
Matt grunted in exasperation, rubbing a hand over his face.  
  
“I don’t want things to get fucked up.”  
  
Dom almost rolled his eyes.  
  
“Not this again.”  
  
Matt frowned at him.  
  
“What do you mean _again_? I haven’t said anything about this before.”  
  
“Okay, no, you haven’t _said_ anything. But you’ve _acted_ like it before, panicking about things and not explaining them to me.”  
  
Matt shifted.  
  
“That was different.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“It _was_. This is… something else.”  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow, expectantly.  
  
“Which is?”  
  
When Matt held his gaze, something akin to fear lurked in his eyes.  
  
“Things have never been this good with us – not that I can remember. And in the last few years, all my good things have been turning to shit.”  
  
Dom leant down to rest his hands on the arms of the chair, crowding over Matt and staring into his face.  
  
“You’re being ridiculous.”  
  
Matt’s frown turned into a scowl.  
  
“I’m not, fuck off. I actually give a shit about our friendship and I’m trying to– _hey!_ ”  
  
He protested as Dom snatched the sheets of music from his hand and threw them to one side.  
  
“You. are. being. ridiculous.”  
  
Dom enunciated each word slowly and obnoxiously.  
  
Matt tried to climb from the chair to retrieve his composition, but Dom shoved him back down. Indignant, Matt fought back, a string of abuse leaving his lips as he was wrestled back into the chair.  
  
Dom eventually pinned him with a knee to the chest and wrists about his ears against the cushion.  
  
“You need to stop being so paranoid,” he said, breathless.  
  
Matt’s eyes were full of fire as he stared back at him.  
  
“And you need to stop being such a cunt.”  
  
Dom let out a sigh.  
  
He let Matt sit there fuming for a while, knowing that sometimes the singer just needed to work through his tantrums in silence.  
  
Eventually, he loosened his grip on Matt’s wrists and relaxed back into his seated position upon Matt’s knees. However, as soon as he did, Matt started thrashing about and fighting him again, trying to push him off. Instead of grabbing his wrists this time, Dom took hold of his head, cradling it and staring straight into his eyes.  
  
“Listen to me,” the drummer demanded.  
  
Matt ignored him and instead tried to shake him loose. When the singer once again resorted to verbal abuse, Dom gripped his face tighter and pressed a brief kiss against his lips.  
  
Matt stilled almost instantly.  
  
Dom pulled away to see Matt staring at him incredulously, the whites of his eyes visible. Dom threw him a pointed look.  
  
“Now listen, Matt. You’re being a tit about this. Nothing is going to happen, alright? Things aren’t going to get fucked up unless you make them – in which case, it’s just self-fulfilling prophecy,” he explained. “All this rubbish about being around you too much is exactly that – rubbish. I love you too much for that to even matter, so just calm down, yeah?”  
  
Matt was still gaping at him, hands that had been clawing at his shirt to get him off now curled into it with an almost white-knuckle grip. Dom let his words, and the rather blunt physical display of his sincerity, sink in for a few moments. He knew Matt couldn’t take things simply as they were, even if they were honest; he would need to work things through that convoluted mind of his to make sense of it.  
  
After a few moments, Matt’s shock shifted to bewilderment, and shortly thereafter, annoyed confusion. His breathing was shallow and short, and Dom felt the weight of his searching gaze upon his face. He stared back, unafraid of whatever judgements Matt was making of him then; this was who he was now, and if Matt didn’t like it then that was just too bad.  
  
“ _Dom_ ,” Matt started, short and a little garbled. “You–”  
  
He didn’t finish the thought, and instead made a funny, embarrassed noise in his throat. He released the fabric of Dom’s shirt, his hands coming to rest limply against the drummer’s chest. It took Dom a moment to realise they were shaking, and his eyes widened in surprise.  
  
“I, what?” he challenged, wondering exactly what was going on in Matt’s head.  
  
All of the singer’s indignation had vanished, his expression serious.  
  
“You’re always trying to make things simple, when they aren’t,” Matt said slowly.  
  
“And you’re always complicating them for no reason,” Dom replied.  
  
Matt let out a sigh, frowning slightly as he studied Dom’s face. Dom still had hold of his head, and he let his thumbs stroke the back of Matt’s jaw, the motion slow and soothing. He watched as colour started to rise in Matt’s cheeks at the gesture, though for the life of him couldn’t think why it should do so. It was no different to any other physical affection they’d displayed lately, and Matt had never seemed particularly bothered by those.  
  
“I care about you,” Matt blurted out.  
  
He looked surprised by his own outburst, and Dom almost laughed at the expression on his face. He would have, if he’d not been so stunned by the blunt declaration himself. Matt was notoriously evasive when it came to these sorts of things, so this statement was quite out of character.  
  
Dom dropped a hand from Matt’s jaw as the singer rubbed at the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.  
  
“Fuck,” Matt muttered.  
  
A smile pulled at the side of Dom’s mouth, and he leaned up to press his mouth to Matt’s forehead, murmuring into his hair.  
  
“I know you do. And that’s okay, y’know. Nothing to panic about.”  
  
Matt’s fingers came up to curl around his wrist, and Dom heard him let out a shaky sigh.  
  
“My head really fucks with me sometimes, y’know? Like, _really_ fucks with me.”  
  
Dom pulled back and took a moment to shift his weight off Matt and onto the arm of the chair.  
  
“Well, just let me know when it’s doing that, yeah? Then I can tell you again that you’re being a tit.”  
  
Matt cracked a smile, his free hand sneaking around to rest at Dom’s lower back.  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
Dom grinned and gave Matt’s cheek a gentle slap, which drew a scoff of indignation. He squawked and leapt off the chair as Matt squeezed his side; Dom yanked at Matt’s leg in retaliation. He managed to evade Matt’s hand as it attempted to smack his arse, snorting and breaking into a run when Matt scrambled off the chair.  
  
Giggling, the singer chased him out of the living room, his pages of sheet music forgotten as they fluttered across the carpet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom occupies himself with Matt’s grand piano.

Dom poked around the half-empty fridge, trying to find something suitable to drink.  
  
Matt and Chris were still fiddling around with the slap bass downstairs, attempting to draw out the exact sound they were after. Dom had initially been working on it with them, but it had quickly devolved into another bickering session between him and Matt when he’d foolishly tried to take the reins. Chris had thrown him a look that said it really wasn’t worth it, so Dom had grudgingly conceded defeat and retreated upstairs instead.  
  
He wasn’t particularly in the mood for alcohol, which left only Tango or bottled water to choose from. He didn’t really feel like those either, but figured he probably needed the sugar at this time of night, so opted for the pop.  
  
Dom wandered around the small kitchen and lounge for a while, contemplating playing some Xbox or watching telly. He didn’t know if there was any football on.  
  
In the end though, his feet led him to front room where Matt’s grand piano sat.  
  
They’d intended to have it downstairs in the studio proper, but getting it there had turned out to be much more of a nuisance than they’d first anticipated. The piano movers had insisted it needed some other special equipment to get it down there without damaging it, if they could even do it at all, and they’d have to come back another day anyway. Matt had said fuck it, and had the baby grand put down there instead, with the other staying up on the ground floor.  
  
Dom let his fingers trace over the lid of the piano keys, the wood smooth and glossy beneath his skin.  
  
He’d seen Matt play hundreds, if not thousands, of times, and still the instrument seemed as foreign and beautiful to him as it had when they were teenagers. It could evoke such a range of emotions, not only in the listener, but also in Matt when he was playing, that sometimes it seemed to possess a kind of magic.  
  
Though, admittedly, that magic only seemed to appear when it was his bandmate playing it. Dom never felt anything akin to it when he banged clumsily on his keyboard at home, and he suspected he probably never would. He was a talented drummer, of course he knew that, and knew how to create fantastic rock and pop songs with his bandmates, but he was no classical musician. There was something profoundly different about that sort of music, and Dom knew he wasn’t really built to play it – not like Matt.  
  
Still, he liked to try his hand at the keyboard to stretch himself, and by extension, the piano if he could.  
  
Dom lifted the lid on the piano and slid onto the seat, allowing his fingers to settle themselves onto the keys. His feet knocked against the pedals, which he had precisely no idea how to use, so he propped them to either side and adjusted his posture. He looked down at the black and white before him and began to slowly map out the chords he remembered, before pressing down to sound them out.  
  
It took him a few goes to get them right, and to switch smoothly between them, but after several minutes he managed to make it sound like he wasn’t completely murdering the instrument. He allowed his right hand to play a few of the simple melodies he’s learned with the chords, and was a little surprised to find just how much he actually remembered. More precisely, his fingers seemed to remember them, and he was heartened by the fact that he apparently had been committing a lot of what he’d learned to muscle memory.  
  
Feeling bold, Dom took a breath and attempted a very slow rendition of _Für Elise_. He’d started learning it off one of those YouTube tutorials, and it hadn’t turned out to be quite as difficult as he’d first imagined. His performance now was not too terrible, though it was admittedly punctuated with a large amount of pauses and the occasional bum note. Still, for someone learning an instrument for the first time at thirty, Dom figured he was doing pretty well.  
  
“Not bad. For a drummer.”  
  
Dom jumped at the sound of Matt’s voice behind him. He immediately stopped playing and turned his head to throw the singer a sheepish look. He wondered how long Matt had been standing there watching him.  
  
“Oh, I was just messing about.”  
  
Matt moved from his position in the doorway toward Dom, his expression softening and a smile pulling onto his lips.  
  
“Well, it sounded alright, for messing about.”  
  
Dom shrugged, though stupidly felt a surge of pride at Matt’s words. Coming from someone as talented on the piano as him, it was pretty high praise.  
  
“Well, I need to compete with your multi-instrumentalism, don’t I?”  
  
“Yeah, apparently,” Matt grinned. He sat down next to Dom on the bench seat. “How long have you been learning? This must be a recent thing, yeah? Cos you never said anything before.”  
  
Dom smiled, turning his head to look at Matt, and nudged him playfully with his elbow.  
  
“Yeah, just recent – since I got back to England. I got a bit bored, bought a keyboard, and have been trying to play it. What you heard is about all I can play at the moment though.”  
  
“Ah, doesn’t matter. You’ve got the beginnings and that’s what’s important. Especially because you’ve only just started anyway, you can’t expect miracles.”  
  
“Translation: you’re a bit rubbish.”  
  
“Nah, don’t be silly, that’s not what I meant. I said it was good, didn’t I?”  
  
“You said it was alright,” Dom grinned, “but I like ‘good’ better.”  
  
“Well, okay, let’s not get _too_ carried away – we’ll stick with ‘alright’. But with a bit of work, you could become pretty good.”  
  
He shuffled closer to Dom, grabbing his right hand to put it back on the piano and adjusting his finger placement on the keys.  
  
“You need to relax a bit so your fingers aren’t fixed in one place – otherwise it’s too hard to move them around the scale when you need to. You should have enough flexibility to be able to go up or down an octave without too much hassle. Now, go again.”  
  
Dom felt about a thousand times more nervous trying to play this with Matt watching over him, but gave it a shot anyway, concentrating on taking it slow and relaxing his hands a bit more.  
  
After a couple of phrases, Matt stopped him.  
  
“You’re still too rigid with it all. You really need to loosen it up and let it flow.”  
  
“Well, it’s a bit fucking hard with you sitting here judging me throughout the whole thing, isn’t it?”  
  
“If you want to play in front of people, you’re gonna have to get used to being watched.”  
  
“I realise that,” Dom said, giving him a pointed look. “But I’m only just starting out and already feel like I’m being marked down for being less than perfect. I’m not you. I haven’t been playing this since I was six.”  
  
Matt’s expression softened.  
  
“Yeah, alright, alright. I’m probably being a bit of a dick. It’s not your native instrument – fair enough. So, just forget all the stuff you know about drums and anything else; this is nothing like that.”  
  
Matt placed the fingers of his right hand under Dom’s on the keys, his other arm looping around Dom’s back to shift in closer.  
  
“Feel what my fingers do on the keys when I play. It’s not just stabbing at the notes to create the right pitch – they’re all part of one continuous sequence and shouldn’t really feel like they’re separate.”  
  
Dom paid close attention to the way Matt’s fingers slid across and pressed the keys as he played the same slow rendition of _Für Elise_ with his right hand. He noticed the way they hardly pushed down at all for some notes, were more firm with others, but all did seem to flow into one another as Matt had explained.  
  
They carried on like this for some time, Dom ghosting Matt’s fingers as he played to learn the techniques, then reversing positions so Matt could gauge his playing. It was slow going, and not exactly the traditional way of learning the instrument, but then, nothing about their musicianship had ever been traditional. Besides, Dom knew he learnt better by feel and experience, rather than simply watching or listening; for him, this method was more likely to stick.  
  
Dom had to admit deep down, it was also something of a guilty pleasure to be this close to Matt for an extended period of time. All the shit they’d struggled with lately, their friendship still being somewhat in a state of disconnect, left Dom feeling uncertain. Just spending time with Matt physically soothed some of that; the singer allowing such close contact was always a good sign.  
  
After a while, Dom grew tired of practice. He stilled his fingers and withdrew them from the keys, shaking them out and rolling his shoulders. Matt’s hands slipped from the piano too, and he closed the lid before setting one upon Dom’s knee. He seemed to shift closer to align their bodies, his other arm looping around Dom’s back, and chin coming to rest in the crook of the drummer’s neck.  
  
Dom smiled, letting his head loll to lean against Matt’s. He didn’t know what this was for, if anything, but he wasn’t about to stop it. They sat for a few moments in silence, until Dom noticed Matt’s nose nudging against his throat.  
  
He quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Are you _smelling_ me?”  
  
Matt took a moment to reply.  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Another pause.  
  
“Because you smell pretty good.”  
  
Dom wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. He decided humour was the best reply.  
  
“Like flowers?”  
  
It was Matt’s turn to snicker.  
  
“Nah. More like–” he hesitated. “I dunno. _You_ , I guess.”  
  
Again, Dom was thrown. It had been a long time since he’d heard that particular phrase, and it had never been from his best friend.  
  
He turned his head to look down now, flashing Matt a strange smile.  
  
“I have a smell, do I?”  
  
“Well, yeah. Everyone does, really.”  
  
Dom was a still a little disconcerted.  
  
“And you know mine?”  
  
Matt lifted his head to look Dom in the eye, his face very close.  
  
“Yeah, of course. I mean, we’ve been living together for a while and everything. And the sleeping in the same bed stuff too I guess, is probably what’s made it familiar. I’d say you probably know mine too.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“Yeah, I suppose so.”  
  
Matt was eyeing him now.  
  
“Is that alright?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. It just wasn’t something I thought I’d hear you say – that you think I smell nice.”  
  
Matt shrugged and rested his head back on Dom’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m just trying to, y’know, _share_ , for a change. Cos I _don’t_ say these things usually, when I probably should. Giving this whole growing-as-a-person thing a shot.”  
  
Dom smiled.  
  
“Right.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Not going to start attending those self-motivation workshops and reading Deepak Chopra now or something, are you?”  
  
Matt snorted.  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
“I’m not sure that’s the right attitude for personal growth.”  
  
“Yes it is. I’m still sharing – I’m sharing my disagreement.”  
  
“Ah, I see,” Dom grinned.  
  
Matt snickered, squeezing a little at Dom’s waist. He didn’t say anything when Dom reached down to place his hand over the one on his knee, lacing their fingers together.  
  
Dom turned his head, his face coming to rest against Matt’s hair. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply.  
  
“I’d say you smell like coconut,” Dom observed, “but I think that’s just your hair product. It’s still nice though.”  
  
He felt Matt smile against him.  
  
“You’ll have to do more investigating,” Matt said, his tone bordering on coy.  
  
“I guess so,” Dom flirted back.  
  
Matt turned his head again. This time, his mouth grazed Dom’s collarbone, the sensation sending a shiver up the drummer’s spine. Dom’s grip tightened instinctively on Matt’s hand, and he sucked in a breath.  
  
Matt’s body shook with a nervous giggle, and he pulled his face away from Dom’s neck. He met Dom’s eyes for a moment, his expression sheepish.  
  
“Sorry. That was a bit, er, _personal_.”  
  
Dom blinked, trying to suppress the heat that travelled across his skin from the point where Matt’s lips had been.  
  
“Nah, that’s alright. Just surprised me.”  
  
“Good surprise, or bad surprise?”  
  
Matt’s gaze was searching, and Dom felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the intensity of it.  
  
“I dunno,” he said slowly, “Good?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Dom opened his mouth to speak again, but was distracted by a shadow out the corner of his eye.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
He turned to see Chris in the doorway with a shocked expression on his face. Dom swiftly disentangled his fingers from Matt’s, as the singer’s arm made a hasty retreat from around his back.  
  
Chris cleared his throat.  
  
“Uh, I was just going to say I finished off that slap bass part,” he continued, “if you wanted to have a look at it – but you can do that tomorrow, I guess. I might head off home.”  
  
Dom gave him a curious look. Granted, it was a little awkward Chris interrupting them in the middle of a personal moment, but it wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. For some reason, Chris looked particularly perturbed this time.  
  
“Okay, yeah, we’ll have a look in the morning,” he replied. “We’ll probably grab a taxi back home soon too.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
He didn’t move for a few moments, and Dom quirked an eyebrow, before glancing at Matt. He was surprised to see Matt looking similarly uncomfortable.  
  
“Well, we’ll see you in the morning then,” Matt finally replied.  
  
This seemed to shake Chris out of his daze, and he nodded a goodbye then disappeared down the hall.  
  
When he was gone, Dom turned to Matt, quizzical.  
  
“What was that about?”  
  
Matt wouldn’t meet his gaze.  
  
“What d’you mean?”  
  
“Oh, come off it. The two of you just went completely weird there for a minute.”  
  
Matt shrugged, scratching at the back of his neck.  
  
“I dunno. Chris has just been that way with me lately. I think he doesn’t know how to react to my fucked up emotional shit.”  
  
Dom relented, his expression softening. Matt wasn’t opening up to him about _everything_ that was going on with him right now, but it was unfair to think that there was some great conspiracy going on. Dom needed to stop being paranoid – he was liable to get himself as freaked out as Matt, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good.  
  
He snaked an arm around Matt’s waist.  
  
“Yeah, I guess he isn’t really into dealing with personal stuff.”  
  
Matt’s fingers came up into the back of his hair.  
  
“Yeah. Great friend in every other way, but not exactly a fan of the heart to heart.”  
  
Dom tipped his head into Matt’s touch, his grin lazy.  
  
“But that’s what you’ve got me for, right?”  
  
“Yeah, exactly.”  
  
Matt’s smile was a little unsteady, but Dom quashed the concern he felt. Matt would talk to him when he was good and ready. In the meantime, he just had to be there for him, whatever he needed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom wonders if Matt is second-guessing their living arrangements.

Dom had forgotten how disorganised Matt could be. Of course, he was aware of his messy habits – the drummer was forever collecting smelly socks, half-empty glasses and screwed up tissues from around the flat. But he didn’t remember his disarray in areas that actually mattered, like financial and important personal documents.  
  
Dom was currently rifling through what Matt had laughingly called his ‘files’ of paperwork, looking for the last Manson purchase papers. Matt was down in Devon for his mum’s birthday while they were on a short break from studio work, and he’d begged Dom to find receipts and send it all over to their manager before he killed Matt or had a nervous breakdown.  
  
It was proving to be more difficult a mission than Dom had originally thought, with no apparent order or sequence to anything in any of the files. Medical was mixed with insurance and music purchases, scattered across three separate files, along with song ideas, articles on politics and conspiracy theory, as well as dinner recipes and restaurant menus. It was an utter nightmare. Didn’t they have accountants and assistants for precisely this shit?  
  
Dom stopped as he came to some brochures clipped together, marked with circles of red pen; they were in a group of papers he’d managed to work out as being in more recent use. He undid the clip and began slowly leafing through them, his heart suddenly sinking in his chest. They were property listings for this month – estates in and around the London area. One or two were circled a number of times in thick marker, clearly of interest.  
  
Dom knew he shouldn’t feel resentful about Matt looking for a new place to live. The two of them couldn’t stay in Dom’s flat forever, so it was only natural for Matt to want to look. Dom just didn’t think it would be quite so soon.  
  
Pushing aside his foolish jealousy, Dom clipped the brochures back together and returned them to the file.  
  
He needed to get back to finding those Manson papers.  
  
*  
  
A couple of days later, Matt had returned from Devon and the two of them were sitting in Soho eating a late breakfast. Dom was picking at his eggs while Matt shovelled a panini into his mouth.  
  
It wasn’t that the food wasn’t good. They’d been here a few times before for breakfast and every time went away satisfied. It was just that Dom didn’t feel particularly hungry. It’d been that way since he’d found those property listings, and especially so that morning when Matt had been talking about Sean and Avani moving house.  
  
“They were looking at a place out in Staines, which was a good price, but Sean said it only had two bedrooms,” Matt continued. “Fine for now I guess, but it sounds like they want to start having kids soon. Fuck knows why. Avani’s only in her twenties – she’s got plenty of time yet. And anyway, can you imagine Sean being a dad?”  
  
Matt sniggered, and Dom cracked a small smile.  
  
“Yeah, you remember that time he got so drunk he thought it was a good idea to scale the wall at the back of Tom’s place because we told him the field behind was full of mushrooms?”  
  
Matt snorted, pulling a small sliver of bacon from between the pieces of bread with his fingers.  
  
“Yeah. And after falling down the bricks on the other side, he didn’t even notice he’d hurt himself until about an hour later,” he grinned. “Took half the skin off his back and stained his shirt top to bottom with blood. The whined about it for about a week afterward because he couldn’t sleep on his back.”  
  
Matt popped the bacon into his mouth and then sucked the tips of his index, middle finger and thumb to remove the grease.  
  
“Yeah – excellent role model,” Dom said wryly. “So, they aren’t buying in Staines?”  
  
Matt continued on with his panini, speaking between mouthfuls.  
  
“Nah. Well, not that place anyway. Maybe if they find something a bit bigger,” he explained. “But anywhere around there, cos you know Avani works in Guildford and Sean’s got that new job not far away as well. Besides, he said he’d like to stay around Surrey, cos it’s nice there.”  
  
Dom stared down at his plate, poking at an egg with the fork.  
  
“Yeah. Windsor and Bracknell are nice as well, don’t you think?”  
  
When he looked up, Matt was giving him a puzzled stare.  
  
“Yeah, I guess they are.”  
  
Matt put down the last bit of his breakfast, levelling his gaze at Dom. Dom looked down at his plate again.  
  
“What the fuck’s going on? That’s the third time you’ve mentioned living around London since I got back from my mum’s. You thinking of moving?”  
  
“No. Are _you_?”  
  
The words came out more accusatory than he’d meant them to. He looked up and was met with Matt’s baffled expression. The brunette then pressed his lips together and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Not really. Well, I don’t know. What makes you think I am, anyway?”  
  
Dom shrugged, eating a piece of salmon to distract himself.  
  
“You’ve got all these brochures. With properties circled and information about the areas. It looked like pretty serious consideration.”  
  
“When did you–”  
  
Dom cut him off before he could get annoyed.  
  
“When you were away and asked me to find those Manson receipts for you,” Dom explained. “They were in one of the files – I wasn’t just nosing through your stuff.”  
  
Matt reached across the table to touch his fingers to Dom’s hand.  
  
“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just wondering how you knew about it. Is that why you’ve been acting weird?”  
  
Dom shifted, shrugging.  
  
“I haven’t been acting weird.”  
  
Matt snorted.  
  
“You have. I thought actually that my smelly socks were pissing you off again now that I’m back. You’d gotten used to not having to put up with that crap for a few days.”  
  
Dom flashed a small grin in response, but shook his head. Though he’d never tell Matt, it was exactly the sort of thing he’d strangely been missing. Okay, so maybe _not_ the smelly socks per se, but certainly his best friend’s presence. He supposed Chris’ assertions about him never being able to leave Matt’s side weren’t so ridiculous now; he silently cursed the man for being right about his level of dependence.  
  
“Nah, it was a bit of a surprise, that’s all. I guess it made me realise I should probably sort my own life out,” he said finally. “Can’t live in a London flat on my own forever.”  
  
Matt pulled his hand away and rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes darting down to the table and away to the people in the street. He fiddled at the collar of his t-shirt for a few moments before he spoke again.  
  
“Well, actually, that’s kind of what it was all about, what I’ve been thinking.”  
  
Dom gave him a blank stare, watching long fingers rub over his crooked nose.  
  
Matt’s gaze came up to his.  
  
“Did you notice the asking prices for some of those places?”  
  
Dom nodded. He’d thought they’d had a few too many zeroes, even for the comfortable income Matt was on.  
  
“Yeah – pretty dear.”  
  
Matt shrugged and ran a hand through his hair again.  
  
“Yeah, exactly. Well, I was thinking we should both get out of the city, live somewhere proper. Like Chris and Kelly do, only not that fucking far away from London because I’d probably go a bit mental,” Matt explained, hardly pausing for breath. “And it’s a bit pointless us both buying our own places since we’ll be with each other all the time anyway. With recording and touring and all that, it’ll be easier just to go back to the same place on our breaks.”  
  
Dom blinked, his fingers playing unconsciously with the handle of his fork.  
  
“So, if you wanted to put in, we could have a place in England that’s a bit nicer, to store all our things,” Matt continued, more slowly now. “Save a bit of money and have less to worry about with property and insurance and all that shit.”  
  
Dom felt oddly giddy.  
  
“You want me to buy a place with you?” he asked.  
  
Matt shrugged, almost ambivalent, though Dom thought he saw colour in Matt’s cheeks too.  
  
“It was an idea, yeah. Just seems easier than pissing about with separate stuff again, y’know?”  
  
Dom stretched his hand across the table to Matt’s, lacing their fingers.  
  
“Yeah, sounds good. I’m a bit tired of my flat, so it’d be nice to go somewhere new. Have a proper house too.”  
  
Matt grinned.  
  
“A place in the country, sir,” Matt said in a posh voice, sniffing.  
  
Dom snorted, squeezing his hand, and Matt burst into giggles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom starts to feel a little frustrated. But gaining relief isn’t quite as simple as it should be.

Recording an album was something that Dom both loved and loathed. It was fantastic to be trying new things and pushing to improve their musical skills, but it also had many moments of frustration and drudgery. There were days that Dom simply did not want to go back and work on a song that wasn’t quite up to scratch yet, and others where he was ready to smack both Matt and Chris in the face. He kept on because he knew this was all part of the creative process and would be worth it in the end. Though that was sometimes hard to remember when he felt both physically and emotionally drained most of the time.  
  
Part of that was also to do with house-hunting. Any spare time he and Matt had away from the studio was spent researching and visiting properties, and although he was excited about the prospect of their own home, the entire endeavour was incredibly tiring. Sometimes Dom felt himself drifting off into daydream when a realtor was giving them a run-down of a building’s history, or when Matt was detailing his ideas for converting a games room into guitar storage. He did care about these things, but concentration had never been his strong suit. Particularly when he was fatigued from hours of drumming earlier in the day.  
  
And the great irony was, because he was so busy working and processing many different things, sometimes he just couldn’t turn his mind off, even when completely exhausted. There were nights when Dom thought as soon as the light was out, he would be too, only to find himself still lying awake two hours later. Sometimes he would wait it out, sometimes he would get up and have a cup of tea on the balcony, though neither of those methods were particularly guaranteed. And he did feel a little guilty for keeping Matt awake too.  
  
The singer could sleep like the dead when he wanted to, but for some reason always seemed to know when Dom was restless, and wouldn’t fall asleep either. He would join Dom for a cuppa when he got up, and would also attempt to calm him if he decided to stay in bed. Dom enjoyed those moments. It wasn’t because Matt’s methods of rubbing a hand down his back or attempting idle talk were necessarily effective, though they often were. It was that Matt even thought of doing these things at all, that he was concerned enough about Dom’s well-being to try to help. Something about that was immensely satisfying, and the thought alone was usually enough to send Dom to sleep most nights.  
  
Not always, though. There were occasions where a very specific kind of restlessness overtook him – the physical _hunger_ kind to be exact – though they had been infrequent enough for Dom to usually ignore it. And at first, Matt didn’t seem to notice them as any different to his other restlessness; he would deploy the same tactics to settle Dom, and didn’t make comment when they failed to work. But this didn’t last all that long, and after a few sexually frustrated nights over the span of two weeks, Matt finally brought it up.  
  
*  
  
Dom had been tossing and turning for about an hour, trying to push any sex-drenched thoughts out of his head, and instead fill it with things that might send him off to sleep. He went over the work they’d done in the studio that day – laying down the final recordings for sections of _Guiding Light_ , as well as Matt recording and fiddling around with the guitar on _Unnatural Selection_. Matt had also used their lunch break to coerce Dom back onto the piano to practice, though only about half that time had ended up being productive. The other half had consisted of Dom getting bored and biting at Matt’s neck, who then retaliated by using his seated position straddled behind Dom to wrap his legs around and pin him against the piano. From there, it had devolved into more stupid, breathless wrestling, until they finally lost balance and fell off the bench.  
  
But none of this replaying of studio time seemed to help at all, and the burn of blood in Dom’s veins persisted in keeping him awake and wanting. He changed position a few more times, ending up on his back again, staring at the ceiling in the dark. He was thoroughly unsurprised when Matt spoke.  
  
“What’s the matter?”  
  
Dom let out a sigh, thinking of all the things he wanted to say, wanted to get out, but probably shouldn’t right now.  
  
“I just… can’t sleep.”  
  
“Mind won’t switch off?”  
  
Dom was sure Matt knew full well that wasn’t the reason. Clearly, he was curious about what it actually was though, so Dom went on.  
  
“Not exactly,” he replied. “Not my _mind_ , anyway.”  
  
“Oh.” It evidently took a moment for the words to sink into Matt’s head. “ _Ah_.” He let out a tittering giggle. “So, why don’t you… _take care of it_ , then?”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I thought you were uptight about that,” he pointed out. “Didn’t you say it was private, or something?”  
  
“I can change my mind.”  
  
“So, I was right then? It’s not such a big deal?”  
  
“No. It can still be a big deal. I just don’t care about it with you now.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes. Of course Matt wouldn’t admit he was wrong.  
  
“Alright.”  
  
They both fell silent for a few moments, and Dom shifted to his front, then back again.  
  
“So, are you going to, or what?” Matt asked.  
  
“I’d have to get up and get in the shower for that. I honestly can’t be bothered.”  
  
Matt didn’t reply right away, and Dom was sure he felt the tension in the room ratchet up a notch.  
  
“You don’t have to go in there."  
  
“What?”  
  
“You don't have to go,” Matt repeated. “It doesn't matter.”  
  
Dom’s eyes widened in the dark, his eyebrows rising at the words. He must have misunderstood. Surely Matt just meant to leave.  
  
“Well, I’m not going to kick you out of here. I’m not _that_ much of a bastard.”  
  
There was again a pause before Matt replied. His voice was low when he spoke.  
  
“I didn’t mean that. I just meant I don’t care about it.”  
  
Dom’s heartbeat was loud in his ears as he tried to gather his thoughts. But he still wasn’t sure if he was interpreting Matt correctly.  
  
“You don’t care… if I do it in here?” he asked.  
  
“No.”  
  
Dom blinked in the darkness.  
  
“Oh. Right.”  
  
He heard Matt clear his throat.  
  
“I mean, I did it before and _you_ weren’t bothered.”  
  
“Yeah, but I didn’t know that’s what you were doing at first, and _you_ didn’t know that I knew,” Dom said. “I think this is different.”  
  
Matt seemed to shuffle away from him.  
  
“It was just a suggestion, since you couldn’t sleep. It doesn’t matter.”  
  
Matt was evidently pretending to be cavalier about this, but surely he felt at least a little nervous. This wasn’t the same as accidentally catching someone wanking; this was knowingly doing it with another person in the room. Though he supposed back in the early days of touring when they would experiment with several people, they’d gotten off in the same room before. Matt probably just meant he could ignore it as equally well as that.  
  
“I don’t want you to be weird with me again, though. After I caught you, you said you were fine with it, and then it turned out you weren’t. Not even a bit. I don’t want this to be like that.”  
  
“It won’t be. I’ve sorted my head out now. It’s okay.”  
  
Dom really didn’t know whether to take Matt at his word. He wasn’t sure he could risk it – not now their relationship had pretty much been wholly repaired.  
  
“Well, I don’t really think I need to do it. I’ll be alright.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Dom felt like they were leaving things on a sour note, but there wasn’t much more he could say, without outright calling Matt a liar. He turned back onto his side and tried to sleep.  
  
Both his head _and_ his body weren’t co-operating now though. He was still more than half-hard, and his mind was grappling with the fact that Matt didn’t care if he pulled one off in his presence. The more sensible part was happy that Matt wasn’t uncomfortable with this topic anymore; the more perverse part of him found the thought thrilling.  
  
He tossed and turned for another fifteen minutes or so before letting out a resigned sigh.  
  
“I’m going to smack you around the head if you’re pissed off at me for this tomorrow, you know,” Dom informed him.  
  
“Alright.”  
  
Dom paused and then shifted over in the bed to put as much space between them as possible. If he was going to do this, he was going to be as discreet as he could. He didn’t want to give Matt any excuse for getting annoyed later.  
  
He turned on his side to face away from the singer, folding one arm under the pillow beneath his head. He allowed his other hand to creep over his hip and slip down between his legs, giving his cock a few experimental rubs with his palm. He let a slow, heavy breath and closed his eyes, giving in.  
  
As Dom gripped himself more fully through his underwear, he felt his heart start to pound harder in his chest and a thick spike of pleasure surged in his belly. It only took a few squeezes before his cock was fully and achingly hard, the head starting to leak against his abdomen. He pressed down on it with his thumb, swallowing the groan that threatened to escape him, and instead let out a shaking breath.  
  
 _Shit_.  
  
It was too much already and he’d barely even started. At this rate, he’d be coming with only a few strokes of his hand around it.  
  
He knew it wasn’t just because he’d been restless since going to bed; frustration could only explain so much. A lot of it was because he wasn’t alone, because he was being _listened_ to. Okay, so it was doubtful Matt was _actively_ listening to him do this – more likely he was blocking it out. But just the mere thought of it was enough to send Dom’s arousal into overdrive. He revelled in voyeurism in all its forms, including being the subject of it, and this was no exception. Despite the fact that it probably _should_ be, considering who was in the room with him.  
  
Dom didn’t care though. More specifically, his cock didn’t seem to care. Because the more he thought about being in this bed with his best friend only a couple of feet away, the more it twitched and jumped under his touch. Matt hadn’t been entirely wrong when he’d joked that he could get Dom off.  
  
The tension was already building to a steady burn in his abdomen, curling into a tight knot of heat. His hips moved of their own accord, tilting forward with every motion of his hand, still slow despite the increasing desperation to get off. Dom continued the tease through fabric for a little while longer, his fingers pushing up and down the shaft, thumb working just below the head. He could feel the blood rushing there with determination, a pulse under the tender skin, and it took all of his self-control to contain his ragged gasps of want as his thumb nail slid up the centre line.  
  
Dom thought he heard a noise from behind him, Matt’s breathing or shifting in place, but it was difficult to tell over the thundering of his heart in his ears. And even if it had been, it wasn’t enough to stop him. In fact, it was actually the reverse, with his hand closing harder around his cock, and a fresh surge of desire flooding through his veins. He was going to have a hard time remaining discreet if any reminder of Matt’s presence sparked such a ferocious response; he wanted nothing more than to groan and grunt his way to orgasm with his cock in his fist.  
  
He tempered his urges though, letting out another shaking breath and slipping his hand down to cup his balls through his pants. He gave them a slow massage, the sensation sending a shiver of warmth up his spine. The removal of touch from his cock cleared his head a little, and a less frantic pressure seemed to settle in his belly. He continued this languid rub of his balls until he felt some sanity return; along with attempting not to make a total spectacle of himself, he simply didn’t want it to be over so soon.  
  
Dom’s heart was still drumming in his ears, but it had gained a steadier rhythm now, and didn’t feel like it was going to thump right out of his chest anymore. He could also control his breathing in a way that wouldn’t sound like hopeless gasping to Matt, if he _was_ listening. There wasn’t exactly much dignity in what Dom was already doing, but he could at least try and keep what little he had left.  
  
Dom finally returned his hand to his cock, sliding his fingers up over his boxer-briefs to trace the length of the shaft. He made small circles at the head with his thumb, noticing the way the fabric was sodden with pre-come from all his earlier teasing and desperation. The wetness there heightened sensation, and his cock twitched in response, more than ready for the proper touch of skin on skin. He pressed down at the base with his fingers one last time before hooking his thumb at the waistband and pulling his underpants down enough to free himself.  
  
As much as he was trying to keep his noise to a minimum, Dom couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him when he closed a hand around his bare cock. The feel of finally touching his aching skin this way invoked both relief and a craving for more, and he pressed his cheek harder into the pillow, his brow furrowing. He began a slow stroke, the knot of tension in his stomach winding tighter as he set a steady rhythm, one he wasn’t sure exactly how long he could sustain.  
  
His thoughts were a jumble, less wandering off into fantasy as was usual, and more rushing between everything happening in the moment. The sensation of his hand on his cock, the increasingly haggard rise and fall of his ribcage, the path his blood was burning through his veins; all of these leapt in and out of his mind as his more instinctual urges took over. And here Dom allowed his body lead him, letting his hips start to buck and thrust against his hand as he continued on.  
  
Up and down his fingers slid, kept firmly in their round grip. They squeezed harder at the base, then again at the top. Every few passes, Dom would sweep his thumb over the head, enjoying the way his body shuddered from it. A little more pre-come would also seep out, adding an increasingly slippery edge to his motions. It was distracting in a way he knew was sending him steadily closer to the knife-edge but that wasn’t a great concern now. From here on out, anything that would heighten his arousal was more than welcome – sufficient time had passed since he’d started all this to ensure he didn’t seem completely pitiful.  
  
He could feel a damp sheen of sweat beginning to gather along his hairline, and the thick scent of sex filled his nostrils. It was distinctly male of course, a heady mix of mild body odour, pre-come and cock, Dom enjoying it far more than he knew he probably should. Something about it just loaded his brain with sparks of animalistic want. He supposed it reminded him of who he was, _what_ he was – a sexual being with appetites and desires as harsh and visceral as any man – something he’d not really thought of in a few months. That, or it was a very basic reminder of fucking, another thing he’d not done much of recently.  
  
But also scattered through all of this was thoughts of Matt. His presence, the sense of being observed indulging in this – Dom had to bite down on his tongue to suppress the noises that rose up in his throat at the knowledge. It felt perversely satisfying to have Matt so close, barely an arm-length away, when Dom’s fingers were closed around his own hard cock. And he hardly minded if Matt noticed the way his hips stuttered when he palmed the head.  
  
In fact, part of him wanted it. He wanted it known how insane he’d driven himself, how close he was teetering to the brink of it all, and how hard he was going to come when he finally fell down that precipice. He couldn’t say why he wanted Matt to know these things; it wasn’t as if it would serve any purpose, benefit either of them in any way. Dom had promised himself earlier that he wasn’t going to give Matt a reason to be uncomfortable with him, but now that all seemed irrelevant. For Matt to know what he was experiencing, what all this was doing for him, how it made him feel – somehow it seemed the most important thing in the world at that moment.  
  
It was also the reason he abandoned his prone side position, and instead rolled over onto his back. His hand remained clasped around his cock, and he lifted a knee to prop up the sheet, giving him room. Dom continued his strokes, not at the break-neck speed that his hips were urging, but a steady enough rhythm to maintain the tension and keep him skirting that delicious edge. He was desperate, and almost delirious with that dark hunger, but he didn’t want it over yet. He wanted to stay in this torturous state for as long as possible, the pressure deep in his belly an intoxicating tease.  
  
Concentrating on the ragged intake and exhalation of his breaths seemed to help keep him steady, even when he loosened his grip and let his fingers play along ridges and veins. His cock pulsed under this softer touch, and his heart was like a fist thudding against the inside of his ribcage. He wanted to growl, cry out, but instead settled for letting his mouth fall open to suck in another lungful of air.  
  
It was then he realised that his breaths weren’t the only heavy ones in the hushed room.  
  
Matt wasn’t asleep, that much was certain. He was lying there on his back, motionless except for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, but there was no way he was simply ignoring Dom. His breathing was too uneven for that, his stillness too measured. He had to be listening, had to be taking in _exactly_ what Dom was doing to himself in the bed next to him.  
  
This thought seemed to scramble Dom’s brain.  
  
It was what he’d been perversely hoping for, the fantasy he’d been getting off on, but the reality of it was something else altogether. It triggered a rapid tightening of the heat curled in his belly, and his hand closed back around his cock to pull several hard strokes. Before he knew what was happening, he’d hurtled past the point of no return, finally slipping off that precipice.  
  
Dom stifled a groan as he came, his eyes rolling back into his head. The spasms that throbbed deep in his pelvis were excruciatingly hard spikes of pleasure, almost a punishment his body had decided to dole out for all the teasing he’d done. But he rode them gladly, feverishly, matching the pulses with jerks of his hand on his cock. It was a perfect sort of pain, and Dom revelled in it.  
  
He felt the way his balls drew up as he painted his belly with release, his hips canting up off the bed slightly and free hand curling into the sheets. He kept up the frantic strokes along the length of his cock until the waves of pleasure started to subside, and he was sure he’d wrung out everything his body could give.  
  
Dom was breathing hard by the time it was over, sweat damp across his forehead. He could feel his heartbeat thumping under the skin of his throat and wrists, in his chest, and of course throughout his abdomen. He blinked several times in the dark, his hand falling loose around his cock. He reached over with his other hand to grab the tissues next to the bed and start cleaning up.  
  
He was in the middle of sorting out the mess he’d made when Matt spoke up.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Matt breathed. His voice was gruff and low. “That was– that was... insane.”  
  
Dom snorted, head still swimming a little.  
  
“Do you always sound like that, during?” Matt asked, after a moment.  
  
Dom shook his head in the dark, brow furrowing.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“So fucking...” Matt paused, clearly searching for a descriptor. “Fucking _desperate_.”  
  
Dom let out a vaguely affronted chuckle.  
  
“Excuse me, what?”  
  
“No, no, I mean– I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Matt said quickly. “Not at all. At all.”  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“You mean it in a _good_ way?”  
  
Matt paused again.  
  
“Yeah. _Yes_.”  
  
Dom knew he wasn’t imagining the heat threaded through those words. Intrigued, he threw his wad of tissues in the bin beside the bed and sorted out his clothing, before turning over to face Matt.  
  
“So, you like how it sounded?” Dom asked, deliberately provocative.  
  
Matt made a huffing noise of offense, but also snickered.  
  
“ _No_. That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“I think it might be,” Dom said, grinning in the dark.  
  
“Nah.”  
  
“I think you might have even been getting off on it.”  
  
Matt giggled again, but was still defensive.  
  
“I was _not_ ,” he hissed. “That wasn’t it at all.”  
  
“Hmmm, alright. How about you come over here and spoon me then?”  
  
They didn’t wear a huge amount of clothing to bed these days, so Dom knew he would easily be able tell whether Matt was lying when their bodies were pressed together like that.  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“Yeah, thought so.”  
  
Another moment went by, and then Matt let out a sigh.  
  
“Alright, fine,” he said, petulant. “I will then.”  
  
He shifted closer, pushing Dom until he rolled over and he could slip behind him to be the big spoon.  
  
Dom felt it as soon as their bodies slotted together – the firm heat from Matt’s groin pressed up against his backside. Matt let out a shaking breath on the back of Dom’s neck, his arm looping around the drummer’s ribcage to close them into their usual embrace.  
  
They lay there in silence for a few moments, Dom not sure exactly what to say, as all the humour seemed to vanish from the situation. His hand came down to lace their fingers upon his chest, a familiar habit when they were in this position. His body was still warm with post-orgasm glow, and he wondered if it was why he didn’t feel particularly perturbed by this turn of events.  
  
“It’s your fault, you know,” Matt said finally, his voice a lot quieter than earlier. “You asked for this.”  
  
Dom swallowed, frowning.  
  
“I suppose I did.”  
  
Matt paused again, and Dom could hear his hard breathing in the quiet.  
  
“You’re not panicking,” Matt finally said.  
  
“No, I’m not.”  
  
“But my cock is against your arse.”  
  
Dom snorted at this, and he felt Matt smile against his skin as the tension dissipated a little.  
  
“Yeah, I know. But I just blew my load with you lying next to me, so I guess it doesn’t really seem all that bad.”  
  
Matt giggled, and then nosed along Dom’s spine, his exhalations hot upon the drummer’s skin.  
  
“Fuck, I think I could do with that myself about now.”  
  
Dom smirked, his thumb stroking lazily over the top of Matt’s.  
  
“I’m not stopping you.”  
  
Matt’s breath was shaky again.  
  
“Nah, I can’t do that.”  
  
“ _I_ just did.”  
  
“I know, but–”  
  
He didn’t finish the thought, but Dom already knew the reason. Matt might be okay with Dom being an exhibitionist about pulling one off, but he wasn’t keen to make himself the spectacle – not in regards to this. And that was fine.  
  
“But it’s _me_ that’s the pervert, not you,” he smiled.  
  
Matt snickered.  
  
“Yeah, it is.”  
  
Dom laughed too, but wasn’t willing to let Matt off the hook so easily. He turned his head over his shoulder and lifted his chest to arch his back. With a devilish smile pulled onto his mouth, he wound his hips in a circle, grinding back against the press of Matt’s cock.  
  
Matt let out an undignified noise.  
  
“ _Fucker_ …” he hissed.  
  
Dom chuckled, noticing the way Matt’s grip had tightened around him, and his damp forehead was now resting on the back of Dom’s neck.  
  
“Shouldn’t try and claim I’m the only perverted one,” Dom said. “Cos that’s what you get.”  
  
“Not sure that’s exactly a punishment for me,” Matt replied, breaths ragged. “I mean, I would just splatter up your back if you kept going.”  
  
He giggled, Dom joining him.  
  
“See, you can’t claim any moral high-ground if you’re willing to come all over your best friend. Pretty sure that’s perverse by anyone’s definition.”  
  
“Well, I’m only human. I’m not going to stop someone attractive from grinding on me.”  
  
Dom’s laugh turned incredulous.  
  
“Did you just call me attractive? I think that lust is messing with your brain.”  
  
Matt’s giggling turned to a titter, and he shifted in place. Dom noted the erection against his backside hadn’t abated.  
  
“Come on, Dom, you’re hot – you know that.”  
  
Dom’s eyebrow went up, and he turned his head again even though he couldn’t see anything in the dark.  
  
“I didn’t know _you_ thought so.”  
  
“Well, I have eyes and I’m not an idiot.”  
  
Dom was confused by Matt’s willingness to say such a thing to him. But then maybe it _wasn’t_ a stretch to think desire was stripping his inhibitions – it wasn’t as if Dom had any prior experience with Matt being turned on to know if this was how he normally behaved. It wasn’t a bad revelation in the least.  
  
“Alright then,” Dom said finally. “So, does that mean you do want me to keep going?”  
  
There was a great deal of tease to his voice, but it was also somewhat of a real question. He was suddenly curious of Matt’s motivations, if he was going to get honest answers out of him.  
  
Matt’s giggle was abashed.  
  
“Don’t be silly. I’m not actually going to hump you just so I can get off. That would be a bit weird.”  
  
“Because weird is something you never do,” Dom grinned.  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m only winding you up.”  
  
“Cos you’re a knob.”  
  
They both laughed, and Dom squeezed Matt’s hand against his chest.  
  
After a few more moments of silence, Dom spoke again.  
  
“If you do ever want relief yourself though, I won’t care either. Whatever you want to do, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah. Okay.”  
  
It sounded like there was more Matt wanted to say, but whatever thoughts were running through his head, he didn’t choose to voice them. Dom didn’t blame him – he was still trying to process everything that had happened that night himself.  
  
Most of it would have to wait until later, because exhaustion was quickly overcoming Dom. His body was tired enough now to get some sleep, and as he felt Matt press a kiss to the back of his neck, his eyes fluttered shut and he started to drift off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom assesses the fallout from the previous night and is relieved to find it not as bad as he’d imagined. Except now he has a few questions to ask of himself.

The next day, Dom expected things to be uncomfortable.  
  
He’d pushed things further than ever before with Matt, and in ways that he knew he really shouldn’t. They were best friends, and introducing the complications of physical want to their relationship wasn’t the greatest idea.  
  
Of course, it would be stupid to pretend there wasn’t something simmering just below the surface when it came to his and Matt’s physical interaction in the first place. A lingering touch here, a hooded gaze there – the flirtation was pretty obvious to anyone that paid attention even for a moment. But Dom had always assumed it was simply that – flirtation – and hadn’t really thought much further on it.  
  
The previous night had reframed things. Having Matt close when Dom was touching himself had been an unmistakable turn-on, and not just because of his predilection for voyeurism. There was also his complete lack of aversion to Matt’s erection pressed against him. He didn’t want to go so far as to say he _liked_ it – but there was a curiosity there of some kind. Dom wasn’t really sure what that meant for his sexuality and his feelings toward Matt, nor where things were supposed to go from here.  
  
He assumed this personal uncertainty would affect them, and the mood between he and Matt would be uneasy. But somehow, it wasn’t.  
  
They woke, showered, dressed, and ate breakfast as usual, making conversation about what they needed to work on in the studio that day, and the couple of properties they’d be looking at on the weekend. Though Dom’s thoughts were still scattered, he never felt uncomfortable at any point, and Matt was his regular lippy, sarcastic self.  
  
It was the absolute opposite of awkward – it was _easy_.  
  
Dom was baffled, but thoroughly relieved. Especially because it continued to be that way the rest of the day, all throughout their work on the album, and when they returned home that evening. Dinner was simple and relaxed, and they watched a movie before heading to bed a little earlier than usual.  
  
Matt was so casual about undressing and slipping under the sheets in wait for Dom, that the drummer started to suspect he was simply pretending nothing at all had happened the night before. That was not ideal.  
  
But when Dom climbed in and flicked the light off, he felt Matt shuffle up behind to close them into the same position as the previous night, the singer’s body curling around his own and a hand splaying across his chest.  
  
“Not quite as perverse as last night, but it’ll do,” Matt said.  
  
Dom could feel the grin against his shoulder-blade. His own lips curled into a smile.  
  
“Well, it can be arranged, if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”  
  
He laughed, Matt giggling behind.  
  
“You started that. I was just an innocent bystander.”  
  
Dom scoffed.  
  
“ _Innocent_ my arse.”  
  
“Well, it did have a little bit to do with your arse, if I recall.”  
  
Matt was sniggering now, and Dom just shook his head.  
  
“You’ve been going on like you’re all scandalised by this stuff, and here you are now making jokes about violating my bum.”  
  
“That wasn’t what I meant,” Matt informed him. “I just meant… er, what’s a little erection between friends?”  
  
They both laughed again, and Dom felt a gladness settle in his chest that Matt was so light-hearted about all of this. He carried on with it.  
  
“Just so you know,” Dom coughed. “It wasn’t that _little_.”  
  
Matt’s giggle erupted first as a squeak, and Dom could feel him shaking against him. He laced his fingers between Matt’s, holding their hands together upon his sternum. His smile was wide in the dark.  
  
“Yeah I guess not,” Matt said. “Still unfair of you to tease me though.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“You were _not_ complaining.”  
  
Matt turned his face to nose along the back of Dom’s neck. Dom exhaled a slow sigh, his eyelids fluttering shut.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Matt conceded. “Would’ve been nice to get some relief though.”  
  
When Matt spoke these words, an odd realisation came over Dom, the thought entering his head unbidden.  
  
_Perhaps I could help with that relief._  
  
Considering everything that had gone on between them lately, it shouldn’t be a great surprise, but somehow Dom was still shocked by it. He hadn’t ever thought of doing anything _to_ Matt before; most of this had been a passive exercise of skirting the line of appropriateness. To knowingly touch Matt in a way that would help him get off – that was an entirely different step to take.  
  
Dom was still struggling to understand if and why he might have feelings of arousal toward Matt to begin with. He didn’t need to be clouding his head with thoughts of where those feelings could lead. It was a distraction, and Dom decided he needed to ignore it for now. Maybe when he was more sure of what he felt, and whether he wanted to act on any of it, he could think about Matt’s relief.  
  
But not now. It was too much.  
  
“I think we’d all like some of that,” Dom said finally.  
  
Matt sniggered again.  
  
“Well you seemed to get a bit of it last night. It sounded… _satisfying_.”  
  
That was the understatement of the century – Dom hadn’t come that hard in a long time, especially not from his own hand. Part of it was no doubt because he simply hadn’t _come_ in a long time, but some of it was also due to the complicated mess of desire provoked by Matt’s presence. And he wasn’t helping now either, with the suspiciously flirtatious edge to these words.  
  
Not that Dom blamed him at all – this was how they always interacted, always had, and it was far more comforting for Matt to be behaving normally, than being awkward about what had happened. Still, it didn’t exactly help Dom’s current state of mind. But that was his problem, not Matt’s.  
  
He responded in kind to the casual banter.  
  
“It was,” Dom grinned. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want more.”  
  
“Slapper.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“Steady on. I’m not even trying it with other people.”  
  
He felt Matt shrug.  
  
“You’re still a slapper though.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Oh come on. You’re going to pretend like you’re not? You’ve always been keen for it.”  
  
“Yeah, but I haven’t acted on it in a long time,” Dom pointed out. “I told you how I grew out of that kind of behaviour in the last few years. Not to mention my recent abstinence. Well, not even that recent – more, _continuing_.”  
  
“Oh.” Matt seemed confused. “You haven’t got laid?”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“Matt, you’ve been around me practically every day for months and months. When exactly do you remember me pulling?”  
  
“Well, when we left the Caribbean–”  
  
“When _you_ left, you mean.”  
  
Dom knew the persisting bitterness was evident in his voice. He didn’t care.  
  
Matt paused a moment, but didn’t argue it.  
  
“Yeah. When I left. You were on the island, then in London by yourself for a while. I assumed you would’ve gotten around to it then.”  
  
“I’d just had a fight with my best friend – I wasn’t exactly in the ideal state of mind for chatting someone up.”  
  
It was Matt’s turn to scoff.  
  
“It’s not like you need to _try_. People know who we are these days – you could’ve turned up to any club or pub and had a line of women ready and waiting.”  
  
“Maybe,” Dom conceded. “But I still felt like shit.”  
  
“All the more reason to get laid. Take your mind off things.”  
  
“Well, it wasn’t that simple for me, so I never did.”  
  
Matt was quiet for a while, and Dom shifted, feeling the tension in the air.  
  
“You were really that upset with me?” Matt asked.  
  
“No, I thought you were upset with _me_ ,” Dom replied. “And I was worried about you.”  
  
“I wasn’t upset with you. I just had a lot of shit going on that I couldn’t deal with.”  
  
“Yeah, of course, I know that now. But I didn’t at the time, and was feeling pretty sorry for myself. So I wasn’t in the mood for anything to do with sex. Which is why it never happened.”  
  
“Well, that’s pretty shit.”  
  
Dom shrugged now.  
  
“Sure, I guess getting laid recently would be nice, but I don’t care all that much. There’s been too much other stuff going on, I haven’t had time to worry about it.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“What about you?” Dom asked. “Did you end up taking anyone to bed when you were in Italy or anything?”  
  
Matt fidgeted.  
  
“Uh, I guess.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“You guess? You don’t know?”  
  
“I mean, things got heated with a few people here and there. But I also drank a lot. Some parts are a bit, er, _fuzzy_. I can’t say exactly what happened.”  
  
Dom cringed.  
  
“That’s not ideal. And not like you. The black-out-drunk sex part, I mean – you usually like to remember your encounters.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. It was a pretty fucked-up time. _I_ was pretty fucked-up.”  
  
Dom rubbed his thumb over the inside of Matt’s wrist.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.  
  
Matt was quiet for a few moments.  
  
“Not really.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Matt went on.  
  
“I don’t mean I want to keep it from you. It’s just, it wasn’t that long ago, and I can’t deal with analysing all that messed up shit yet.”  
  
“Yeah, I get it. It _is_ okay.”  
  
Matt squeezed his hand, and nuzzled into the side of Dom’s neck. His speech was muffled against Dom’s skin.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Although Matt hadn’t actually confessed anything serious to him, Dom still felt heartened by his response. They were at least at the stage of being able to discuss the difficulties their friendship had gone through, and Matt acknowledged that he did want to talk to Dom about his inner demons. It might not be now, and maybe not even soon, but it was still a step forward.  
  
In light of this, Dom decided he wasn’t too troubled by his possible attraction to Matt. It was probably something else they’d just have to work through. Whether that would mean Dom spending time alone to sort it out, or actually telling Matt about it, he wasn’t sure yet.  
  
He still needed that extra time to process it all, and see how he really felt and reacted to Matt on a purely physical level. It wasn’t clear enough right now, but that was okay.  
  
He would figure it out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom decides to be a little more proactive in figuring out what’s going on with his feelings toward Matt.

  
Dom spent the next couple of days consciously aware of his boundaries and interactions with Matt.  
  
He concentrated on the way it felt when Matt smiled flirtatiously at him, or spoke in low tones about something dirty, lips close to Dom’s ear and gaze dark under heavy lashes. He noticed how his skin warmed when Matt slid an arm around his waist in the studio, and the way his blood rushed at the simple trace of his fingers over the nape of the singer’s neck. Or when their touch lingered longer than was probably necessary, and the times Matt pressed a brief kiss to his cheek for no apparent reason.  
  
Each touch, each reaction, was a point of data he could add to the stockpile of his exact feelings towards Matt. And with each piece of information, it was becoming clear he had more than a passing interest, physically-speaking.  
  
This idea was solidified for Dom almost a week after the masturbation episode.  
  
He and Matt had looked at a few properties that weekend, and in between all the deliberations about price and location and so on, Dom had barely had time to reflect on his desire for Matt. It was something of a relief. It wasn’t that he wanted to avoid figuring it out – it was just nice to be around Matt for a while without analysing everything he was doing and feeling.  
  
Though, when they returned to the flat, all of it came rushing back.  
  
Exhausted from wandering through country estates all day, Dom toed his shoes off and flopped down on the couch, face-first. He let out a dramatic sigh into the cushions. He heard the thump of Matt’s trainers as the singer kicked them against what he presumed to be the airing cupboard.  
  
A moment later, Matt collapsed down on top of him, knocking any remaining air from his lungs and covering Dom’s body with his own.  
  
“You lump,” Dom grumbled, face still in the settee.  
  
“What?”  
  
Dom turned his head to one side, finding Matt’s face in the crook of his neck.  
  
“I said, you’re a lump,” he repeated.  
  
“No, I’m not.”  
  
“I’m the one with you lying on me, and I say you are.”  
  
“So, kick me off then, if it’s that much of a hassle.”  
  
“Can’t be bothered.”  
  
“Stop complaining then.”  
  
“No,” Dom grinned.  
  
Matt made a half-hearted attempt to smack the side of Dom’s head with one hand, but gave up after a moment, snorting and leaving his hand to rest where it was. He let out his own weary sigh, his fingers beginning to card idly through the blonde’s hair.  
  
Dom smiled and allowed his eyelids to droop closed again. He let Matt continue on for a while, his mind becoming adrift in the slow, soft sensations of the singer’s touch. When Matt’s fingers slid down to trace patterns over the back of his neck, Dom hummed in appreciation.  
  
“Don’t suppose you feel like rubbing my back as well, while you’re there?” Dom asked.  
  
“Not really,” Matt replied. “I’m too tired. Besides, you’re the one that still owes _me_ massages for being a twat.”  
  
Dom had completely forgotten about the favours. His terrible behaviour seemed like a lifetime ago; coming back to England had seemingly pushed a lot of their Caribbean escape out of his mind. Which was odd, because it had changed so much between them, and changed Dom too. He couldn’t imagine being in his current predicament without everything that had happened there.  
  
“Alright then. Get off me and I’ll pay my debt.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your feet are no doubt sore from today, right?”  
  
Matt was quiet a moment before replying.  
  
“Yeah, they are, actually.”  
  
“Or are you planning on keeping that favour up your sleeve again for some future post-gig use?”  
  
“No. I just hadn’t really thought about it.” He paused, thinking. “It does seem like a good time now, though.”  
  
“So, get off me then.”  
  
Matt crawled off him, shuffling backwards to the end of the settee, as Dom turned over and drew his own legs up. There was a strange expression on Matt’s face, and for a moment Dom wondered if he was pissed for being ordered to move. But no, it couldn’t be that – aside from direct compliments, Matt never cared how blunt his friends were with him.  
  
But Matt was more reticent than he probably should have been, considering he was being offered something as enjoyable as a foot massage. Dom wondered if that was his own mood bleeding through, and Matt was aware this favour was not exactly as it seemed.  
  
Because the truth was, Dom wasn’t doing this out of obligation, or because he felt like doing something nice for his best friend. Not completely, anyway.  
  
Part of it was a selfish agenda, another situation in which to examine his reactions and feelings toward Matt. He remembered quite distinctly the sort of response he’d elicited when touching Matt’s feet before; he wanted to do that again with his new-found knowledge, and see if it didn’t spark something darker in him this time.  
  
It was dishonest, he knew that. He shouldn’t be playing manipulative games this way, not when Matt had no idea of his motivations or intent. But he couldn’t give Matt any more information yet. After all, the whole point of this exercise was to work out exactly what he felt toward his best friend – he didn’t want unnecessary anxiety if it turned out to be nothing of note.  
  
That, and he didn’t like the idea of facing Matt with something like this when he wasn’t completely sure of it himself. On occasion, Matt could be a right bastard when someone seemed vague about their feelings, if it was something he thought he should know. Most of the time it was usually because he thought they were being ambiguous on purpose, and just didn’t want to say whatever it was outright. And Dom wasn’t so sure Matt would believe him if he claimed he didn’t know his wants just yet. So, it was best to keep things to himself for now.  
  
All the same, it was possible Matt already suspected something. Or, at least had an idea that there was an ulterior motive to Dom’s offer of a foot massage. But despite his seemingly wary disposition, the singer didn’t say anything, just stretched out his legs to point his feet in Dom’s direction upon the couch.  
  
Dom slid a leg off the cushions to rest one foot on the floor, the other knee still bent and propped up against the back of the settee. He took Matt’s feet into his lap and allowed his hands to come down upon the bare skin of Matt’s ankles. His fingers traced over the bones there for a few moments, feeling the shapes, before slipping down to take hold of Matt’s sock-covered feet.  
  
As soon as Dom pressed his thumbs into the soles, Matt let out a groan of relief, his head lolling back. Dom grinned, feeling a spike of reciprocal satisfaction. This wasn’t new – he’d always liked the way he could provoke such enjoyment in his best friend. Now he had to understand why that could be, and where this feeling was leading, if anywhere.  
  
He began a slow, firm massage of Matt’s feet, starting with the heel and working his way up along the outside, bit by bit. When he got to top, he let his thumbs sweep short strokes upward across the balls of Matt’s feet, and then repeated the action in the other direction. Dom followed this with the drawing of a softer line just at the top of the arches, from the outside inwards. After the third pass, he turned it into a pattern of small circles which eventually spread out into the rest of the arch. He continued on with this for some time, gently working the tension from the most tender part of Matt’s foot.  
  
All the while, Matt was restless, shifting back and forth in his reclined position on the couch, though never enough to pull his foot away. He made a series of indecipherable noises of contentment, and eventually lifted his arm to throw a hand over his face, closing his eyes.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Matt sighed.  
  
Dom chuckled. “Guess I shouldn’t stop, then?”  
  
“You better not. I’ll kick you in the face.”  
  
“Charming.”  
  
Matt grinned. He groaned as Dom began to work his feet once again.  
  
After another minute or two, Dom decided to escalate things. As much as he was enjoying Matt’s general reactions to the massage, it wasn’t enough. He needed more information. He needed to push closer to something beyond platonic interaction to see how it affected him.  
  
He tucked his fingers under the cuffs of Matt’s socks and began to peel them off his feet. Matt tensed at this, and his hand drew away from his face, cracking open an eyelid.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Dom paused, looking up at him. He shrugged a shoulder. “I thought it’d be easier for me to do it properly.” He pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek before continuing. “Probably also feel better for you with no barrier in the way.”  
  
The allusion to sex was deliberate, and Dom noticed the way Matt’s breathing seemed to stutter a little at the words. All of this was risky, Dom knew it, and it could blow up in his face.  
  
But Matt’s expression broke into a slight, devilish smile, and his gaze was dark. “Usually does,” he murmured.  
  
Dom smirked back at him and then finished removing Matt’s socks, casting them aside. When he touched his hands to Matt’s bare feet, the singer jumped. Dom looked up to meet his eyes again.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
Matt shifted, nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “Just not used to people touching my feet. They’re… _sensitive_.”  
  
“I’ll be gentle,” Dom grinned.  
  
Matt giggled, but then swallowed noticeably as Dom’s hands closed more fully around his feet. As Dom began to apply pressure once more, Matt’s eyelids fluttered shut and he let out a heavy sigh. After a few moments, his head lolled back and his forearm came up to rest across his eyes.  
  
Now that he wasn’t being observed, Dom took the opportunity to study Matt’s face a little more openly. He found himself captivated by the display of tortured and pleasured expressions there; the way Matt’s mouth fell open, soft and inviting, and the sounds that emerged from it, almost desperate, made Dom’s heartbeat race upwards. He couldn’t help but think of all the other things he could do to draw those sorts of groans from the singer, and how those thin lips and tongue could be put to use on skin.  
  
Dom felt his face grow hot, matching the blood now pumping fast in his veins, and he was only mildly surprised to find himself half-hard. Seeing Matt in this needy and unselfconscious state was enough to flood him with all the hormones he would expect when watching someone he was attracted to. But knowing it was by his hand that Matt was becoming unravelled – _that_ caused Dom to feel turned on to the point that Matt might actually start to notice. Granted, he was wearing dark jeans that wouldn’t give much away by sight, even if he was ragingly hard, but the two of them were in close quarters. If Matt moved his foot a few inches toward the middle of Dom’s body, he’d be able to feel it with certainty.  
  
That should’ve been enough to scare Dom into ceasing his ministrations on Matt, or at the very least, look away from the singer’s face and clear any sexually-charged thoughts from his mind. But Dom was weak. And now that he was in the middle of it, he realised, desperate for touch, for sexual stimulation of any description. So, he continued on. He continued to run his hands over the sensitive skin of Matt’s feet, to watch his vaguely erotic expressions, and generally do nothing to stop the explicit images conjured up in his head because of it.  
  
It was only when Matt moved his arm away from over his eyes and raised his head that Dom was hit with the fear of discovery. But when Matt opened his eyes, Dom wasn’t entirely sure it would mean disaster. Because the look in them betrayed more than simple enjoyment from therapeutic massage; there was something heavy and wanting in his gaze.  
  
Dom swallowed hard. His voice was ragged when he spoke, though he attempted nonchalance. “This is good, then?”  
  
“Yeah.” Matt watched him in silence for a few seconds before continuing. “You can’t tell?”  
  
Dom gave a wry smile. “Well, yeah I guess you weren’t being subtle about it.”  
  
“No point being subtle about pleasure.”  
  
Dom liked the way that sounded coming from Matt’s mouth, and he felt his body respond with another wave of heat. Matt had surely worded it that way on purpose, but he didn’t really know to what end. It wasn’t unusual for Matt to be flirty and smutty for no particular reason, just for the hell of it, and there not to be any further motive in mind. And Dom knew he was looking at everything through different eyes these days, so behaviour that might’ve been innocuous for them in the past now seemed significant.  
  
But at the same time, something about Matt’s delivery, and the expression on his face gave Dom the impression there was more going on in his head than simple amusement.  
  
Dom threw him a lazy smile, returning the heated gaze he was being given.  
  
“I suppose not.”  
  
“So…?”  
  
“So?”  
  
“You gonna give me some more?”  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow, smirking. “More pleasure?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Maybe,” Dom said coyly.  
  
“Only maybe?”  
  
“Well, _I_ haven’t had any yet.”  
  
“Who said you get any? I thought this was about you repaying your debt.”  
  
“Well, it is. Doesn’t mean I don’t want some too.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
Throughout this exchange, Dom hadn’t taken his hands away from Matt’s feet, only stilled them. He now let his thumbs press slowly back up the arches of Matt’s feet, fixing his gaze on the other man.  
  
“Although,” he murmured. “I do like to _give_.”  
  
Matt squirmed, eyelids dropping low, and his breath coming out in a heavy exhalation.  
  
“ _Dom_ …”  
  
His voice was almost a growl, and Dom felt his heart hammering in his chest. It was unmistakable now, how much he wanted Matt physically – to feel the hard parts of that body under his hands; the taste of his mouth; the sound of his arousal from Dom’s touch.  
  
Where this desperation had come from and how he hadn’t noticed it until now, Dom had no idea. But sometimes attraction and desire were like that. At least for him.  
  
Matt watched him intently for a few moments. Then his brow furrowed and he closed his eyes completely, fingers coming to the bridge of his nose. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.  
  
“We should stop,” Matt said suddenly.  
  
He opened his eyes and withdrew his feet from Dom’s hold, pulling his knees to his chest.  
  
Dom could see the breaths shaking in his small frame, and he realised he’d pushed Matt too far. He wondered how much of his want had been written on his face, and whether it was that that had spooked Matt. He swallowed.  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Dom said. “Whatever you want.”  
  
Matt rubbed a hand over his face again, and Dom was almost sure he heard him huff a laugh.  
  
“Whatever I want, hmm?”  
  
“Well… yeah. You know what I mean,” Dom said uncertainly.  
  
He shifted his position to shuffle closer to Matt again, reaching a hand to his shoulder. He squeezed it and threw him a lopsided smile.  
  
The tension in Matt’s body seemed to dissipate a little at this, and his brow relaxed. He exhaled slowly and then turned to look at Dom. His expression was soft.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Matt leaned into the hand on his shoulder, and Dom took the cue to slide it along his back and over to the other side, draping his arm around the singer. Matt turned his body to settle more snugly into the embrace, his hand dropping seemingly absentmindedly down to Dom’s knee.  
  
After all the provocation and stimulation, the feel of Matt touching him so close to his groin made Dom’s head swim a little. He took several slow breaths to calm his rushing blood and bring his thoughts back in order. He rested his head against the side of Matt’s and stroked his fingers slowly along the side of his upper arm. Matt hummed softly in contentment and Dom exhaled, letting his eyes close for a moment.  
  
Taking things back down to this gentle, affectionate tone seemed to pacify Dom’s lust, which was good. He had pushed their relationship enough today; more could be potentially damaging and wasn’t necessary. He’d learned what he needed to about himself and his attraction to Matt.  
  
“I never try to do anything that upsets you, y’know?” he said after a moment.  
  
Matt turned his head a little to look at him. His expression was slightly puzzled.  
  
“I know. You haven’t,” he replied. “Not lately, anyway.” He watched Dom before speaking again. “Why? Do you think you have?”  
  
Dom shook his head. “Not really. Just making sure.”  
  
“If I’m acting funny or something, you shouldn’t assume it’s you,” Matt told him. “I’m better than I was before. But it doesn’t mean I’m completely fine up here.” He tapped his forehead with a finger.  
  
“Were you ever?” Dom teased.  
  
Matt snorted and elbowed him in the ribs. “Dick.”  
  
It was good that Matt wasn’t troubled by anything he’d done or said, especially today. It was probably a blessing that the singer was still feeling muddled, that he attributed misunderstandings or strange behaviour to his own problems. Not that Dom wanted him to feel that way, but it was a convenient distraction while Dom sorted through things.  
  
He knew his next step would be to figure out whether his feelings of attraction changed anything – for him, their interactions, their relationship as a whole. It was a broader and more complicated question, and he felt like he wanted to just sit with the realisation of his desire for a while before he tackled that.  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find their new home but Dom notices the situation between them growing increasingly complicated as he tries to figure out what Matt wants.

The new house was perfect.

Dom had known it the first time he’d laid eyes on it, as had Matt. It was everything they wanted and needed, and despite the hefty price tag, it hadn’t taken much convincing by the estate agent for them to sign on the dotted line.

It wasn’t the poshest place they’d ever stayed – there’d been plenty of hotels, chateaus and private residences that surpassed it. Though they weren’t slumming it by any means; it was a refurbished Georgian manor in the west of London after all. It had half a dozen bedrooms, four bathrooms, several dining areas, a library, drawing and lounge rooms with fireplaces, well-equipped kitchen, wine cellar, not to mention the conservatory out the back and the substantial grounds the manor was situated on. So yes, it was definitely a residence for people with money.

But the location, the way it felt to be close to be civilisation and yet somehow in a place of refuge – that was what drew Dom to it. Here they could relax, be themselves, derive inspiration and compose if they felt the urge.

Mostly, it just felt like home.

It had been a long time since Dom had thought that way about anywhere. There was no way he was going to pass it up.

They were currently still in the midst of trying to move everything in, as well as decide what new things they needed. This house was a lot bigger than anything Dom had been living in recently, and Matt had left a large proportion of his furniture and white goods to Gaia. And neither of them had ever really had duplicate dining or living areas, so there were rooms that would remain empty for the time being.

And yet, somehow Matt was still managing to be pedantic about where everything would go. In the end, Dom had to usher him away from the movers before one of them backhanded him for all his nagging.

“It doesn’t matter where everything is right this second,” Dom assured him, leading him out the back doors through to the conservatory. “As long as the beds and the fridge are where they’re supposed to be, it’s fine for now. We can fix anything else later.”

Matt looked back reluctantly, but kept his hand in Dom’s and allowed himself to be guided into the domed expanse of glass and wood.

After his personal realisations the week before, Dom had tried to make sure he didn’t act any differently around Matt. He continued to be physical and affectionate as usual, and as emotionally open as he could be considering the circumstances. He didn’t want Matt’s suspicions raised when Dom hadn’t yet decided what he was going to do about his attractions, if anything.

“But I don’t want to have to fix it later,” Matt sulked. “It should be done properly _now_.”

It was still early, so the room was only warmed a little, but Dom knew it would be much better by the afternoon if the clouds kept away.

“I know. But it’s not that important, not right now.” He pointed a finger upwards. “Look, instead of the usual shit miserable weather, the sun is out. Make the most of it.”

Matt shrugged. “We can always go on holiday to Spain for sun.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but this is our house. Our brand new fucking spectacular house. If we’re not going to enjoy it, what was the point in buying it?” He dropped Matt’s hand now and instead took him by the shoulders to push him up to the windows, stepping behind. He gestured at the scenery before them, a view of impossibly green landscaped gardens and lawn. “Look out there at all that – it’s _ours_. Don’t stand there and tell me it isn’t pretty amazing. Who gives a shit if the settee is in the wrong reading room, when we have _this_.”

He pressed a hand to the nape of Matt’s neck and snaked the other around his waist, resting his chin on Matt’s shoulder. He felt Matt relax a little, the tension draining from his body.

“I do like it here,” Matt admitted.

His hand came over Dom’s on his belly, and he turned his head to the side to look Dom in the face. The drummer threw him a grin. It grew wider when Matt leaned in close to press a brief kiss against his cheek. Gestures like that were slightly frustrating now that Dom was aware of his own wants, but he still enjoyed the affection regardless.

Matt pulled away and turned to look back out the window, his expression more contemplative than Dom would’ve expected. Their fingers interlaced over Matt’s stomach, and Dom dropped his other hand to now wrap both arms around the lithe singer. He shifted his body closer so they were flush, and then began playfully biting up and down the back of Matt’s neck.

Matt giggled, nudging back with his elbows in a feigned attempt to get him to stop. Dom didn’t let up for a little while, laughing as his victim squirmed in his grip, but knowing from the further intertwining of their fingers that Matt actually didn’t mind at all. And neither did Dom.

He finally ceased his nipping, resting his forehead against the back of Matt’s neck. He inhaled a few breaths there, his nostrils filled with the smell of coconut and something slightly spicy. Matt stilled at this, though didn’t comment on Dom’s behaviour.

The drummer wasn’t sure if it was because Matt was freshly showered, or if he was wearing a new cologne, but _shit_ he smelled good today. Knowing he was crossing a line, but not being strong enough to stop, Dom lifted his head to nose along Matt’s spine. He drew a slow path from the base of Matt’s neck to just above his hairline, eyes still closed and lips slightly parted.

Matt’s whole body shuddered.

The next breath the singer exhaled was somewhere between a sigh and whine, and his fingers curled so hard against Dom’s hand that it almost hurt. Dom’s eyes opened now, and he bit his lip as he realised the effect he was having on Matt. He was pleased, but also a little terrified that he was now telegraphing his true desires.

When he spoke, it was against Matt’s skin, his voice rough.

“Alright?”

Matt took a moment to reply, and when he did, he sounded about as dazed as Dom felt.

“Yeah.” His swallow was audible.

“Was that too much?” Dom asked.

Too much of _what_ , he wasn’t exactly sure, but Matt seemed to understand anyway.

“It was a lot.”

“Sorry.”

“No, what I mean is, it was a lot, but not too much. It was good.”

“Okay.”

Dom didn’t really know where to go from there. His face was still pressed against the back of Matt’s head, and Matt clearly didn’t deem it necessary to shake him off. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if that was a green light to keep going, or do something different, or do nothing at all.

He opted for explanation instead.

“You just smell good, that’s all,” Dom said.

“Do I?”

He pulled his face back from Matt’s neck now. “Yeah. Better than usual.”

“Are you saying I’m normally smelly?” Matt asked, the smile evident in his voice.

Dom laughed, glad of the slight release of tension. His reply was heavy with sarcasm.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Most of the time you smell like a rubbish bin filled with old sick, so this is a nice change.”

Matt snorted a laugh and then groaned in disgust. “That’s awful.”

“I know. I don’t know how I put up with it.”

Matt began elbowing him again, giggling, and Dom laughed, resuming his nipping at the back of the singer’s neck. Matt didn’t endure it for long this time, twisting in his embrace to face Dom and beginning his own assault of fingers in soft places. Dom jumped and let out a cry of surprise, dropping his arms to defend himself from the poking onslaught. He laughed as he slapped Matt’s unrelenting hands away, matching the wide grin of mischief on the singer’s lips.

It took a minute or so for Dom to gain the upper hand, eventually managing to grab Matt by the wrists and pin him against the conservatory glass with his hip. He was surprised when Matt conceded defeat almost instantly, his body yielding under Dom’s touch, and the fire of defiance in his eyes replaced with something darker.

Dom was reminded of the times he’d treated Matt roughly in other wrestling matches, but also during the calmer interaction of massage. The surrender he displayed was strangely similar, despite the different tone and context; one was confrontational and deliberately combative, the other considerate and from a place of generosity. They shouldn’t induce the same reaction. Not unless they had something in common that Matt responded to.

When the realisation came over Dom, he felt both baffled and also incredibly stupid. He didn’t know how he’d been so oblivious before, but suddenly it was all crystal clear – Matt _liked_ this.

He liked Dom being rough with him, challenging him and restraining him physically, or just fisting a hand in his hair to keep him in place during a massage. Matt enjoyed the restriction, the control – he enjoyed submitting to Dom.

 _Jesus_.

The last thought was enough to take Dom’s breath from him.

On the face of it, there wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with having a submissive streak. Some people preferred to take charge, while others were happy to follow someone else’s lead. But Matt wasn’t like that, had never been. He was always the leader, the driver in both group situations and his own life – he never took a backseat when it came to something that involved him. It was one of the reasons he and Dom bickered in the studio; they both wanted to be in charge.

And then of course there was the underlying sexual aspect to the obedience. The problem was, Dom didn’t know Matt’s motivations or physical wants, and he was filtering it all through the recent revelations about his own attractions. For all he knew, there could be totally innocent explanations for Matt’s behaviour, such as a new-found lack of interest in physical squabbles, or complete comfort in Dom’s touch.

And yet, Dom knew that wasn’t the case. Either by instinct or expertise in reading Matt’s moods, he knew there was something to this. An undercurrent of both acquiescence and suggestion permeated Matt’s behaviour during these moments, and coupled with the obedient expression on Matt’s face right now, Dom found himself hot with want. His head flashed with scenes of holding Matt down and touching him as he pleased, making him squirm and gasp and come. The lust was so sharp and sudden it was like a slap to the face, and it took all of his self-control not to act on this desperation.

Instead, he dropped his hands from Matt’s wrists and retreated from close proximity, needing a moment to settle himself.

Matt looked confused and a little hurt, which was no surprise.

“What? What’s the matter?” Matt asked.

“Nothing.” Dom tried to think quickly. “I just thought I might’ve been hurting you.”

_Maybe he wants you to._

Dom shushed his incredibly unhelpful brain, and instead tried to focus on Matt’s mood.

“No. You’d know about it if you were. Would’ve kicked you in the bollocks, probably.”

“Yeah, I guess you would’ve.”

He hesitated, and Matt quirked an eyebrow, obviously sensing something was off.

“You’re acting weird.”

Dom shrugged. “My head’s just fucking with me, I think,” he confessed.

Matt’s smile was wry. “I thought that was my excuse.”

“About time I used it then, eh?”

“Who said you could?” Matt teased.

He was still leant up against the conservatory wall, arms folded loosely at his belly. His expression was one of coy invitation, though Dom could glean nothing from it other than the same vaguely flirtatious overtones as usual. Frustrated at Matt’s opaque behaviour, Dom moved back to close the space between them again, a hand floating out to rest on the protruding hip. He wanted proof about the way Matt responded to him – whether the singer actually wanted anything physical to happen between them, or if he was just trying to provoke Dom into revealing his desires.

“I don’t think I need your permission for that,” Dom said. “And it’s not like you can do anything about it anyway.”

Matt quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe I can.”

“Go on, then.”

Dom tightened his grip on Matt’s hip and straightened up to full height over the slightly smaller man. His gaze was mischievous, a deliberate taunt to see whether Matt would continue to play along. He wasn’t disappointed.

Matt’s body had tensed again during their exchange, so when he attempted to inflict another round of poking upon the drummer, Dom was ready for him. He squirmed away and slapped at Matt’s hand, before managing to get hold of a wrist. Matt struggled for a while, but Dom held fast and was eventually able to shove it behind Matt, pinning it between his body and the conservatory glass. The drummer also manoeuvred a knee between Matt’s legs, employing his full weight to keep him from escaping. The resulting position of a hip to the groin caused the singer to still, lest he risk injury to tender parts.

Dom noted the harsh breaths against his face as he took hold of the last free hand that was attempting to yank at his hair. He shoved this wrist above Matt’s head, the act a fitting completion to his display of dominance. Matt wriggled for a few moments more, but Dom knew it was a front more than anything. To suppress any further resistance, he lifted his free hand to Matt’s neck, virtually taking him by the throat. Dom drew back to meet Matt’s eyes, and thought he was sufficiently prepared for whatever he might find there.

He wasn’t.

Matt’s gaze was fiery, shot through with frustration, but laced with the unmistakable tone of surrender. There was no hesitation now, no coy implication – just Matt giving over to this, to Dom, for whatever purpose he chose.

_Fuck._

The drummer had expected some of it, but not quite with such intensity.

And yet, it was dangerous, assuming it was okay to pursue anything along these lines when Matt hadn’t breathed a word about wanting it. For all Dom knew, this could still just be a game to Matt. And he refused to be the one that cracked first.

Dom realised they were staring at one another in silence as the moments ticked by. His hand was still stretched across Matt’s throat, the Adam’s apple bobbing under his touch as Matt swallowed a few times. He could also feel the jump of his pulse, almost as rapid-fire as Dom’s own.

“Guess I win,” Dom said finally.

Matt quirked an eyebrow, his smile vague. “Guess so,” he murmured. “Now what?”

Dom leaned back a little, studying Matt’s face.

“I dunno,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll just keep you like this for a while.”

He spread his fingers wider on Matt’s neck, and let his thumb trace a line back and forth along the singer’s jawline. Matt’s skin was a little different here, the smoothness of the rest of his throat giving way to the faint stubble he kept nowadays. It was a strangely satisfying sensation under Dom’s thumb and he wondered why he hadn’t done this before now. After all, he knew Matt wasn’t averse to his touch, and there was nothing particularly different about this contact compared to any of the others.

Except for the way Matt was reacting to it. Whether it was the combination of restraint with this careful touch, or just the mood that had developed between them over the last few minutes, Matt seemed to shudder with every stroke, his head tipping back. The storm in his eyes had not subsided, and he now watched Dom from under low lids.

“Keep me for what?” Matt asked.

Normally, such a query was designed for provocation, to go along with the joke of faux-flirtation that frequently descended into silliness between them. But there wasn’t a trace of that humour now; Matt wanted Dom to tell him exactly what he had in mind.

Dom threw him a half-smile.

“Didn’t know it had to be _for_ anything. But I’m sure I can think of something.” Dom paused, wondering if he should push further. He decided he would. “I have a good imagination.”

Dom’s words were heavy with innuendo, and he felt Matt squirm at them under his restraint. The singer’s exhalations were hard again, and Dom let the hand at his throat slip down to the front of Matt’s chest. He followed the rapid rise and fall of Matt’s ribcage for a few moments before letting his hand slide further down to Matt’s belly.

Dom trailed his fingers back and forth in slow patterns across the fabric of Matt’s t-shirt, at no time breaking eye contact. He could see the burn, the desperation building in Matt’s gaze, though the frontman didn’t make any noise of protest, just let Dom continue on. It wasn’t until Dom slipped a thumb slightly lower to draw a line across his navel that Matt seemed to bite something back, his features twisting and mouth falling open.

Though it wasn’t a complaint, that much was plain on Matt’s face. And that was when he knew what Matt was goading him into, what he would let Dom do to him if the drummer chose to take that step.

But he needed to hear it from Matt himself.

“Unless you can think of something,” Dom murmured.

Matt watched him, his breathing heavy. His gaze tracked over Dom’s face and Dom could feel him trying to figure him out, figure _this_ out.

“Not really.”

Dom sighed inwardly in disappointment. Matt refused to show his hand, even a little. His behaviour up to this point had been nebulous at best, and if Dom acted and he was _wrong_ about Matt’s desire for him, he would be humiliated. And he couldn’t take that. Not when it came to Matt. It could also cause irreparable damage to their friendship, which had already been through quite enough in the last year.

It just wasn’t worth the risk.

Dom pushed his hand to the side to curl his fingers over Matt’s hipbone, and leaned back in to bring their bodies flush. He could feel Matt’s heart thumping against his chest, the sensation both comforting and a little dizzying. The hungry look in Matt’s eyes still lingered, but Dom was determined not to be swayed by it, regardless of how compliant Matt looked.

He loosened his grip on Matt’s wrist that was still over his head, and dropped his hand down to the singer’s other hip. He then shifted his knee from between Matt’s legs so he was no longer pinned to the glass, instead pulling him away from it to rest his hands in the small of Matt’s back.

Matt’s expression seemed to shift then, confusion seeping into his features, and Dom felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach. He forced himself to smile, at least a little, before touching his forehead to Matt’s.

“Unfortunately, I can’t think of anything to do right now either. Guess my imagination’s not that good.”

“I guess not.”

Matt’s brow was furrowed. His eyes searched Dom’s for a few moments before he spoke again. “You pissed off at me or something?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re still acting odd – we start messing about, being silly, and then you stop all of a sudden. Like you don’t like it, or it’s annoying or something,” Matt explained.  
  
Dom felt his heart sink. It sounded very much like everything that had transpired in the last few minutes was just silliness to Matt; he didn’t view it with any more importance than their usual horsing around. If that was the case, Dom was glad he hadn’t divulged his desires after all.  
  
He shrugged, shaking his head. “I’m not pissed off at you. But like I said, my head’s fucking with me,” he admitted. “Sorry.”  
  
At his apology, Matt’s expression softened, and the level of tension and scrutiny between them seemed to subside. Matt lifted his hand to the back of Dom’s neck, stroking with his fingertips, and dropped his head forward so their foreheads touched again.  
  
His tone was softer now. “It’s alright, I get it. Things don’t make sense sometimes, and you don’t know why, can’t sort through it. Not necessarily any reason for it, it just happens.”  
  
Matt’s understanding words and the gentleness of his gesture only served to make Dom feel like a bit of a dick. He’d been so preoccupied with the physical side of things, that he’d basically ignored their actual friendship for the past couple of weeks. Even if the attraction he felt ended up being reciprocated by Matt, it wasn’t right to sacrifice their relationship in pursuit of it.  
  
Dom sighed.

He opened his mouth to change the subject, but was interrupted by the voice of one of the movers calling them from down the hall. They both turned their heads, and Dom stepped back to break the close contact.

Matt called back to the mover and started making his way out of the conservatory to see what they wanted.

Dom was grateful for the reprieve. He was increasingly certain he’d like to introduce unequivocal sexual elements to their relationship, but it was better if he had more time to think about what had just happened. Matt’s unwillingness to provide even the slightest confirmation of physical interest was a barrier to figuring out exactly where to take things. Dom didn’t know if there was another way to determine what Matt actually wanted without asking him directly, but he didn’t want to make any hasty decisions without all the information.

It was starting to seem like another case of wait and see.


End file.
